


Red & Gold Pinstripes (Or How the 1940's would be with Tony Stark)

by treble_tone_stark



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 1940s Tony Stark, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1940s, Artist Steve Rogers, Bisexual Male Character, Bittersweet Ending, Bottom Tony Stark, Bucky Barnes & Tony Stark Friendship, Bucky is 26, Character Death, Character Development, Eventual Smut, Homophobia, Howard is 30, Howard is a good brother, Love, M/M, Musician Tony Stark, Mutual Pining, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Steve Rogers, Protective Tony Stark, Slow Burn, Smut will be explicit, Steve is 25, This Tony is Modern Tony's Uncle, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony is 23, Tony teaches Steve about sex, Top Steve Rogers, Virgin Steve Rogers, Young Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 00:02:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 30,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7196954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/treble_tone_stark/pseuds/treble_tone_stark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Stony AU where a young (23 year old) Tony Stark lives in the same generation as Steve and Bucky and is Howard Stark's younger brother. </p><p>The Stark Brothers are the talk of the town— their innovations thrust the generation towards the future, and not to mention the siblings aren't half bad when it comes to looks. The younger Stark studies music on the side. He's also (arguably) more of a flirt than Howard, and doesn't hide his thoughts about an attractive gal – or guy – when he sees one, until he finds the evolving world they live in isn't always as accepting as one might wish it were; but he's got his heart set on one scrawny Brooklyn blonde that makes up with a fighting spirit and a mouth that's unafraid to speak for what's right... only problem is he's not brave enough to admit it, no matter how much he knows he cares. Story takes place over the course of the first Captain America movie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Main Attraction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To start off! This story, as mentioned in the summary, is an AU where "Tony Stark" is actually Howard Stark's brother, and is the youngest of the main male characters in this story. Here he is 23 years old and described after young RDJ in the movie "Soapdish" or "Chances Are" if you would like to search it up! He's adorable, mind you. 
> 
> Here are some main reference pics/gifs, the first link being the gif that inspired this fic in the first place!:  
> \- http://goo.gl/bp5gvg  
> \- https://goo.gl/txH2wz  
> \- http://goo.gl/2TzMJ8  
> \- https://goo.gl/q7u9ah
> 
> Do expect more images to go along with this story in the future! I will incorporate the links within the chapter text (marked by underlines) in the following chapters.
> 
> One ellipse (...) marks some type of transition and any sets of three ellipses marks a time skip and change in scene or perspective.

* * *

  **Prologue**

 

_He had made a promise._

_A promise he couldn't keep._

_Tony had showed him the future of technology._

_Tony was Steve's future._

_And now Tony Stark was gone._

_70 years in the future, Steve is trying to... just keep on adapting._

* * *

 

**Chapter 1 – 1943 – The Main Attraction**

 

"Tonight's my last night, so let's get you cleaned up."

 

Bucky slung his arm over the lithe shoulders of his punk of a best friend, Steve Rogers, and dragged him along outta the alleyway he'd just been busy getting wailed on by another bimbo.

 

"Where are we going?" Steve inquired, subtly straightening his back as not to feel so dwarfed by his friend's taller stature.

 

Bucky let up, and raised a hand to hand over the folded newspaper he'd been carrying. He had even snagged a couple of dames for the two of them to double date to the new exhibit.

 

"The future."

 

...

 

"Look on the bright side, pal, when we ship out tomorrow morning you'll be the last eligible man in New York. There are hundreds of pretty gals– handsome gents too– out here to mingle with."

 

Steve rolled his shoulders, though they always seemed to slump anyway.

 

"Yeah. I'd settle for just one person who'd wanna mingle with all this."

 

Buck raised a brow at him as they scaled a short set of stairs.

 

"If you joined the army there'd be plenty of people to mingle with. They wouldn't be tryna hold your hand though. They'd be tryna take it clean off."

 

The next time Buck raised a hand was to wave at the pair of girls that were waiting for them – well – waiting for Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes and tolerant enough to let a friend tag along, Steve thought.

 

"Bucky!" They called, waving back.

 

"...What’d you tell em about me?"

 

Bucky leaned toward his friend, still smiling forward.

 

"Only the good stuff. Just try to have some fun, alright?"

 

Stevie just ran a hand through his blonde hair, pushing the tufts back. As the girls approached the two males, he glanced back down at the newspaper that was still in his hands, rereading the headline as opposed to trying to muster up something 'smooth' to say to said dames.

 

**[WORLD EXPOSITION OF TOMORROW:**

**Come see the future of America! See a car fly through the sky! ... ]**

 

The article went on to list a few of the individuals who contributed to the night's displays, though most of it revolved strongly around a certain pair of inventors.

 

**[The Stark Brothers promise to knock your socks off! You wouldn't want to miss Howard and Tony Stark's newest display of splendor...]**

 

There was a small square after the headline, starting off the text that followed, captioned "Howard Stark" – smiling up at the sky. There was no image of the other brother, Tony, oddly enough. Of course there were quite a few quotes throughout the article from the both of them, and Steve had heard a lot about the brothers on the street; this would be his first time seeing them both in person. Science wasn't always his forte in the first place, but it was hard not to be at least a little intrigued at the premise of it all, even if his mind was somewhere else.

 

Steve ogled over the newspaper as he quietly followed after the others, walking after Bucky's back that he could see in his peripheral vision. The girls didn't seem to notice his absence.

 

After covering the distance of the square, they all ended up at the heart of the exhibit, shuffling through the bustling crowd as they all tried to get a good look at the stage. Steve glanced upward as some kind of vehicle went past above head, rolling over its track that looped around the area. It looked akin to what he thought a rocket ship might look like, if it flew close to the ground; he'd have to remember to draw it in his sketchbook when he got the chance.

 

With a stroke of luck the four of them secured a spot toward the front of the crowd with a good view of the stage that's grand red curtains were just slipping open. The movement revealed a dazzling sight of showgirls– all dressed in the classy red, white, and black colors– dancing around the rather impressive looking, cherry red cruiser that was assumedly the main attraction.

 

"Oh my god, it's starting!" the brunette on Bucky's arm squealed, holding onto her friend as they scooted up a bit more.

 

"I heard that that Tony Stark is a real looker, just like Howard." The blond that, supposedly, was Steve's date uttered, only throwing Steve a side glance as he tried to offer her some of the carnival peanuts he had in his hand after they stopped by the snack bar.

 

One might think Bucky would've said something snarky, considering their dates were fawning over a couple of other men; but Bucky was equally anticipating a good show. Handsome brothers never hurt that.

 

A single showgirl on stage finally held up her microphone and boldly announced the very men that Steve had just been reading about on paper.

 

"Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, Howard and Tony Stark!"

 

At the words, two dark haired men in top hats stepped out into the spotlights.

 

The male to the right of the stage Steve recognized immediately as Howard, given the mustache that had stood out on the page was finely groomed to go along with a pair of confident shoulders covered in a slick, black tuxedo and bow tie. A red pocket square was tucked in neatly for that splash of color against black and white.

 

The other, though it could be no one else, was Tony. And just one thought flashed through Steve's mind without him even having to think twice, as the man lifted the rim of his hat to flicker his eyes at the crowd: _why wasn't Tony Stark's picture in the newspaper?_

 

Rogers swallowed and awkwardly lowered the slightly crumpled newspaper to his side, the tiny bag of snack peanuts still in the other hand.

 

Tony walked out with a different ambiance completely, his shoulders back, but somehow lax, while his leather-covered feet practically slid across the stage. His attire was a bold contrast to that of his brother's– his own black tuxedo worn open (the buttons undone) to show off the high-waisted dark trousers he was sporting over a crisp white dress shirt that was accompanied otherwise by a red neck tie as opposed to the bow. He somehow managed to look casual while at the same time classier than most of the population of New York.

 

But clothing aside.

 

He was a looker indeed.

 

"Thank you," Howard spoke into the mic as he and the showgirl switched items – the girl taking his top hat in exchange. But not only that, the older Stark snagged a kiss from the girl at his arm before she could walk away. It seemed to be within routine, but it riled up the crowd a bit.

 

It also turned quite a few heads to the younger Stark, as he stepped forward from the latter side of the stage and wiggled his brows at the women closest to him, removing his own top hat. As the girls came closer, Tony mumbled something to them– inaudible to the crowd but something along the lines of "Lay one on me, dolls"– in which two girls pressed red lips to both of Tony's porcelain cheeks.

 

Steve blinked up at the scene, and in a moment's notice, the lipstick covered lad before him was pulling his very own microphone from his top hat, speaking his first audible words of the night.

 

"Personally, I prefer leaving any smooches on the lips for after the show," and he said this with a beaming grin, his eyes sparkling more in the light, sans the shadow of his hat.

 

Howard smirked over at his sibling, a handkerchief in his hand wiping off the red lipstick from his own mouth fleetingly.

 

"A matter of opinion, Tone. (Yes, I meant Tone)" Both brothers pivoted on their heels just as the rest of their on-stage entertainment lined up behind the vehicle at the center.

 

"But how many of you would relish the possibility of sharing a kiss with your lad or las up in the sky?" Howard began.

 

"A real love birds experience, and plus, who wants to worry about buying an old clunker new tires all through the seasons?" Tony took over, throwing a smooth smile toward the hooked audience at his own bad pun, just before giving the cherry red car a good pat on the hood.

 

"What if we told you, that in a few short years your car wouldn't even have to touch the ground, at all?"

 

Tony swung his arm out, as if to say 'just watch,' and scanned the crowd's reaction as Howard placed his hand over the knob on a pedestal beside the vehicle.

 

"With the Stark Brothers technology, you can do just that."

 

Howard began twisting the knob as soon as the girls had removed the fake tires.

 

"Let your dreams fly, people," Tony remarked, his eyes still sweeping across the crowd. He occasionally pursed his lips or grinned at a person down below, especially when a woman would scream out 'I love you Tony!' or even if the praise were aimed at Howard.

 

Behind him, the car's "wheels" sparked to life, Howard twisting the knob all the way until the tech started to glow, and then took off from the ground.. at least a good couple feet without any thing touching it.

 

The crowd went silent for a moment, before letting out a breath of awe.

 

Steve rose his brows only slightly, watching as the car hovered, before he glanced at both brothers once more. The thing that actually got his attention was when his eyes flickered over to the younger Stark, Tony's shifting gaze clashed with his. Steve was about to, reflexively, break the contact (since eye contact with a male usually meant he was about to get beat up) – but Tony broke it instead.

 

Well.

 

He _winked_.

 

It wasn't anything that didn't add up to what he'd been doing – eye flirting with hundreds of people and all – but it still made Steve shrink back a bit, and finally look away.

 

"Holy cow," he heard Bucky murmur, a smile heard in his voice. Steve agreed in his mind, 'yeah, holy cow is right,' but in accordance to the fact that Tony Stark had just batted his eyelashes at him.

 

Bucky glanced back at Rogers as if to grasp his reaction– to the hover car– but the blond was already looking otherwise. The sergeant turned back around with a small sigh as the girls beside him latched onto his arms in their amazement.

 

Unfortunately, within the next second or two, the glowing hover tech started to flicker, and the red 'clunker' dropped back down to the stage, some golden sparks flying off of it as it made its landing.

 

The showgirls flinched, Howard just leaned his head away a bit, and Tony started laughing.

 

"I did say a few years, didn't I?" Howard chuckled out.

 

With a shirt tug at his collar, the younger gent closed up the show with a: "In the meantime, prepare yourselves for when this baby _really_ flies!"

 

"-Goodnight," the brothers finally spoke in unison, waving to separate sides of the crowd as they waltzed off stage, Tony and the girls tossing their top hats to the people standing below them.

 

The audience erupted in applause, and Bucky turned once more to his friend, "Hey, what's say we treat these ladies to some dancin..."

 

Steve had immediately slunk away when Bucky and the audience got distracted.

 

Bucky huffed, turning his head back and forth in some hope to find his friend. No luck. Thankfully, he knew where Steve oughta be.

 

…

…

…

 

Tony and Howard both retreated backstage, their girls following suit.

 

"You went for two kisses today, huh, Tone?"

 

Tony coughed out a laugh, narrowing his eyes in a certain way at the two girls who'd left their lipstick stains on his face. They giggled.

 

"I have to try my best to show up the amazing Howard Stark, don't I? What'd people call you? America's Mustached Casanova?" He snorted, rolling his eyes as he pulled his arms from his tuxedo suit.

 

Howard closed his eyes and unbuttoned his own black tux, taking one of the stools to sit on.

 

"Not my words. But what about you, Treble Tone Stark?" On the contrary to the 'clever' nickname some had chosen for his older brother, this was a nickname only Howard really was allowed to use.

 

Popping open a bottle of golden scotch and pouring himself a half glass, the younger brother dropped his head dramatically.

 

"How many times have I tried explaining that a treble tone is more of a high pitch while treble clef is what they use for sheet music?"

 

"Well," Howard held out a hand to ask for Tony to pour him a glass as well. "Your voice is quite womanish sometimes, anyway. Maybe it makes more sense."

 

Just as he was about to tip the adorned glass bottle to another glass for his sibling, Tony stopped and half-heartedly glared.

 

"My voice is deeper than most and richer than money." He downed a deep gulp from his glass before speaking again, "Sheesh, didn't realize your legs stopped working." And he set the bottle that was still at hand down, before sitting down in his own stool, just beside the table holding the liquor.

 

Howard pursed his lips in mild annoyance before raising himself up and crossing the distance to pour himself just a couple sips worth of the good stuff. For now.

 

Just then a pair of slender arms settled around Tony's shoulders.

 

"Hey Tony, mind if I cash in for that kiss on the lips after our last show?"

 

The male tilted his head up, stretching his neck to meet the red haired broad's eyes. She had given him a kiss on his left cheek during the presentation.

 

"I dunno, if you wanna cash in you'll have to gamble a little bit, sweetheart." He hit her with his signature, pearly-white smile, and she countered with her own rosy lips lowering and almost grazing his own.

 

Tony pressed a finger to her lips before they could make a landing.

 

"Ah, ah, I said gamble. No guaranteed reward just yet."

 

She straightened up and pouted, but seemed to be satisfied enough for now.

 

When Howard re-entered Tony's line of vision, he had his own drinking glass poured half full now. He was taking a long sip, but his eyebrows raised teasingly when he noticed Tony's gaze back on him.

 

Howard lowered the cup from his lips and licked them clean, his eyebrows expressing a curiosity of their own before he said a word.

 

"Why do you do that?"

 

"Take home beauties at night while you're having a mid-life crisis?"

 

Howard glowered at the latter’s remark.

 

"We both know I've taken home more beauties than you, and I am content with my age, Tony. You know what I'm talking about."

 

Tony flicked his brows up as his eyes dropped back to the liquor he was swirling around.

 

"I'm afraid I don't know. And about our records — I think you taking home more than me is — how you say — arguable." As a master of it, Tony avoided subjects that he didn't wish to discuss. It may not be understandable now, but it'll all make sense later. Howard's mouth formed a crooked line as he let out his disappointment in one breath.

 

The aforementioned little brother stood up, smoothing the front of his dress shirt.

 

"Going somewhere?"

 

"I'm going to go scout around. There are fireworks, pretty girls, and handsome men for me to chat with and I'm not going to limit myself to being cooped up backstage."

 

"We have another showcase in an hour, Tony."

 

Downing the last of his scotch like it was juice, the younger Stark slapped his cup on the small round table between them, smirking with lazy eyes.

 

"You know I'm punctual. I'll be back."

 

And he went.

 

...

 

Tony had, reflexively, eyed up the crowd when he was up on stage — before that even — and he noticed how many men out there were already dressed in their uniforms.

 

Yeah, he promised the cherry-haired dame backstage that he'd give her a night, but that didn't mean he couldn't show some soldiers a nice time before they shipped out in the morning. Whatever that meant.

 

Hey.

 

He was a charitable guy. And he knew the circumstances of war.

 

After crossing paths with a few girls who came up to him, recognizing him as a Stark and all, and even a few men who expressed their admiration for his inventions and... abilities to escapade with ladies on any night... Tony found himself approaching the building that most of the "brave souls of America" were rounding up.

 

Tony almost admired men who would ship themselves out of the states in order to get grenades and bullets aimed their way just to protect something. To have a sense that, as an individual, they made a difference.

 

But then again, he pitied them for being men who would ship themselves out of the states in order to get grenades and bullets aimed their way.

 

He knew most of them did it more for the glory of patriotism, and coming home as a hero. Every able bodied male was supposed to be this trigger-happy lad ready to lay down their life.

 

He reaped around the hallways, keying in on one of the troopers who was leaning against the wall in the hallway, toying with his hat in his hands. He was quite good-looking, dark black hair a little fussed up from being under said hat.

 

Just as he was about to slide up to him, his girl came around the corner, and she hugged his arm.

 

"So you're really shipping out tomorrow, Tommy?"

 

The man looked at her, and his eyes changed from a certain level of anxiousness to false bravery.

 

"Yup. And I'll come back as soon as I can. Don't let the little guy miss me too much."

 

Tony furrowed his brows and huffed a bit at himself. He hated how he recoiled from the scene so quickly.

 

Pity. The guy was cute. The girl had decent knockers too...

 

\- Anyway, he backed off and instead spotted a more familiar face, but not one he would key in on for the purpose he'd been stalking around for.

 

"Dr. Erskine,"

 

The older man turned to him, adjusting his glasses on his nose. He had been turned the other way, standing beside one of the many large poster frames, but looking off somewhere else.

 

"Ah, Tony, my boy. What brings you here? I thought you were scheduled for another show,"

 

The boy shrugged his shoulders, approaching.

 

"I was looking for somebody to chat with, is all. Maybe have some fun. I had some spare time."

 

"You never just rest, do you."

 

"'Fraid I can't. What are you doing now?"

 

Abraham smiled friendly, and took a fleeting glance in the direction he had been looking prior.

 

"Like you I cannot rest. I've simply been observing for the new project."

 

Tony stared at the doctor before he let his curiosity pull his eyes to the end of the hallway the doctor unconsciously looked toward.

 

Another young man in uniform, tall, clean-cut, was talking to a shorter... much, shorter male.

 

He recognized them from the crowd. Tony somewhat recalled winking at the smaller man. Got him to blush a little.

 

Neither looked very happy now, but they were wrapping up their conversation, as the lad in uniform started walking off, muttering something to the other before he took off with a couple of ladies.

 

"Observing, huh."

 

The doctor nodded, and gave Tony a pat on the back of his shoulder.

 

"Take care tonight, Tony. I'll see you in the laboratory soon."

 

"You too, Doc."

 

....

....

....

 

Steve had snuck off to wander the exhibition himself, and - at no surprise - ended up at the recruitment building for the U.S. Armed Forces that was stationed toward the end of the exhibition’s square.

 

Bucky found him. Again, no surprise. And a typical argument ensued between the two of them, discussing the issue that was all the rage nowadays: Steve lying on his enlistment forms in order to try and try his luck at entering the forces. Bucky wanted Steve to just take one of the 'back home' jobs, like selling scrap metal or working out at the market, rather than the battlefield. Steve wouldn't settle for that.

 

"…Bucky- Bucky! C’mon,"

 

The sergeant of the 107th straightened his back as his lips formed a tense line.

 

"... There are men laying down their lives. I got _no_ right to do any less than them. That's what you don't understand. It’s not about me.”

 

Buck raised his chin and let out a huff from the small opening of his lips.

 

"Right. Because you got 'nothing' to prove, huh," He shook his head and threw a glance over his shoulder.

 

"Well I'm going dancing. You coming?"

 

"I'll catch up with you."

 

Bucky already started stepping backward, toward the two ladies who were waiting over by a statue at the middle of the square.

 

“Don’t be too late or I’ll have to come lookin’ for you. I don’t want to come back home and hear you got taken by the feds.”

 

Steve suppressed an eye roll. Bucky was like an older brother that never let up on reminding him of what could go wrong if he weren’t around sometimes.

 

“I said I’d catch up, Buck.”

 

Bucky nodded a couple times before turning around fully and heading off with their double dates.

 

Steve watched them go off for a moment before turning back to the hallway he was standing in. One of the frames held an image of a group of soldiers, one of the faces blanked out to show that the army needed 'you' to fill the spot. Steve walked up to it gingerly again, and his chest tightened a bit when he saw his own reflection didn't even make the cut — his eyes and nose sat in the crook of the silhouette's uniform collar.

 

Another pair of eyes appeared in the reflection, set just above his head.

 

Steve blinked and spun around, and the person he found standing there had the very same eyes that had winked at him back at the stage display.

 

The shorter male was staring at him, slightly confused how he’d ended up here, while the younger Stark brother was still, casually, staring forward at his image in the glass frame. He had removed his tuxedo, and was holding it in the crook of an arm, leaving him in his dress shirt, tie, and now-visible suspender straps.

 

“You’d think they’d make these things in different sizes, huh? Not all troopers are the same height.” His hair was slicked back, but a few strands had come loose, curling over the side of his forehead; Tony twisted the tuft in his fingers and finally settled his gaze on the petite man in front of him.

 

“What happened with your sergeant friend just then?”

 

Steve was currently engaged in asking himself why Tony Stark was suddenly speaking to him, as if they’d already met before and introduced themselves, but he answered back- nonetheless.

 

“We uh… just got into a bit of a disagreement.”

 

Tony’s eyebrows waved, the right one arching upward as he took a look in the direction Bucky had gone off.

 

“Yeah? About which of you got to go home with which broad or something?”

 

Steve half smiled, shaking his head as he lowered it.

 

“Hah. Neither of those dames were into me anyway, but no, that’s not what we were arguing about, Mr. Stark.”

 

Tony’s mouth twitched, the right side hitching up and making the corner of one of his eyes wrinkle ever so slightly.

 

“Hey, no need for the formalities, bud.”

 

He untucked his hand from his trouser pocket and held it out.

 

“Just call me Tony.”

 

Steve shook his hand. Stark’s enveloped Roger’s completely, even though it wasn’t especially large—but it was a warm, firm shake.

 

“Tony,” Steve said, and let go of his hand.

 

It wasn’t every day some kind stranger just came up to talk to him, and it still almost felt surreal to have all of this just happening… but it was nice. Refreshing, as opposed to only being able to have a normal conversation with Bucky, or having arguments with one of many of the hoodlums that so often roamed the streets of Brooklyn. There were plenty of nice people in his hometown, no doubt, but when a person came to be bored enough to start up a talk with a stranger Steve was not typically choice number one.

 

Probably because nobody ever saw him.

 

“…So, since it seems you’re not going to introduce yourself, I guess it’s my turn to ask another question,”

 

Tony slipped his hand back into his pants pocket, and cocked his head, those droopy eyes never breaking away from his current companion.

 

“What’s a cute fella like you doing standing around over here for? All the fun’s happening over there and yet here we are moping around the recruitment office just to check our reflections.”

 

Furrowing his brow, Rogers couldn’t stop the breathy laugh that was kicked out of his lungs. He was almost offended, but it was hard to be – given the fact Tony didn’t seem to be teasing.

 

“Cute, huh? Because I’m short?”

 

“Cute because you’re cute,”

 

The Stark scrunched up his nose a bit, almost snorting in amusement. “I know what everybody says about me, but I don’t lie about _looks_ ,” He leaned down a little, so their eyes were almost level.

 

“…You got nice eyes, but they’d look nicer if you smiled more.”

 

Steve _was_ the one to break eye contact this time, and his eyes traveled back to what he could see of himself in the shadow of the soldier in the frame.

 

“…Thank you,” Steve was trying to straighten his back again, and he wasn’t quite sure what part of all that he was even saying ‘thank you,’ to, because he wasn’t used to someone talking to him this long – or with that many compliments – but he appreciated the sentiment of a decent guy pitying him that wasn’t Bucky.

 

“But I’m not just standing here to check myself in a mirror, Mr. Star—Tony—“ He could feel the latter’s eyes peering at the back of his head. “I’m here to enlist in the army.”

 

The numbered beats of silence that passed between the two of them was only made tolerable by the natural buzz of troops and their dates walking by.

 

Running a hand over his face, Tony didn’t try stopping a small chuckle.

 

“Geez, first my attempts at flirting with you don’t work, then I find out you’re a funny guy, too? Where’ve you been all my life?” His tone was light – unaware- and small rumbles of mute laughter tickled at his throat.

 

Steve’s shoulders tensed as they sunk inward once more, and he swallowed hard.

 

“I’m not joking.”

 

Tony’s shoulders stopped their quaking in chuckles at that, the smirk on his face vanishing.

 

“What? But you're..." Tony's eyes widened, and he stopped himself abruptly.

 

"I'm going to enlist in the army and serve my country. Just like any other man."

 

The joking quirkiness left Tony's face completely as he listened. A twinge of guilt flitted through his dark brown eyes when he leered at his own reflection.

 

 _Hypocrite_ , Tony thought.

 

"...Why?"

 

Steve looked back at him.

 

"Because I have just as much of a duty to lay down my life as they do."

 

Tony wet his lips, taking a deep breath as he averted his attention on another couple that was passing by.

 

"You have as much duty to do something as you let yourself have. Nobody expects anything out of you."

 

"I expect it out of myself. I can't just wait around while everyone else contributes."

 

Tony swallowed a lump in his throat.

 

"Lucky you," A short smile stretched across his face, though his eyes went downcast before shooting back up with a new energy- as if someone had just woken him up. He slipped the tuxedo that he'd been holding in his arm back on, stepping up to the glass one last time to push the loose tuft of hair back into place.

 

Steve raised an eyebrow at him curiously. His cool demeanor had returned, but something was a little different. Or maybe it was just him.

 

"Listen," The Stark buttoned his suit this time, instead of leaving it open.

 

"No matter what happens with all this," He gestured behind Steve at the people walking in and out of the recruitment hall.

 

"Don't do anything just because you think you have to. Keep expectin' things out of yourself. That's a gift not everyone's got."

 

"I won't."

 

Tony flashed him a toothy grin, before his eyes caught something - or someone- that was still standing nearby. He nodded at that someone before Steve even noticed.

 

"...What's your name, anyway?"

 

Steve didn't respond immediately, since Tony had taken a few steps away, as if he were leaving- but stopped midway. The blond even expected Tony to forget to ask - since he'd dismissed it earlier; but when he went to respond he saw that the latter's hand was already outstretched nonchalantly.

 

"Steve. Steve Rogers." He took his hand for the second time and Tony gave it a good squeeze.

 

"I'll call you Stevie."

 

Tony smirked and saluted to him.

 

"I have a feeling we'll probably meet again. I've been said to be very magnetic with people I meet."

 

He spun on his heel and started back on his way, wherever that was.

 

"It was nice talking to you, Tony."

 

Said inventor raised his voice to respond from the distance away, back pedaling on his heels as he turned to speak in his direction.

 

"...If you're not gonna go dance with either of those two broads your friend went off with, I will! So you better hurry it up signing up for the army or whatnot!" He shrugged, before disappearing into the crowd.

 

Now left alone again, Steven breathed out, holding somewhat of a new resolve as he went further into the recruitment office.

 

It was a fair. So he was going to try his luck.

 

...

...

...

 

After Tony parted from his new acquaintance, he had gone back out into the world, and quickly found himself back at the main event for the next showcase. Time passed much too fast, and oddly enough he’d only managed to flirt with about… ten people. He was getting rusty.

 

Backstage he found all the showgirls adjusting their top hats again, and his brother swishing golden brown liquor in the same glass as earlier. The bottle hadn’t gone down any more from when he had left, so it seemed Howard hadn’t actually been drinking while he waited.

 

Comparatively to Tony, Howard was a lightweight anyway. Howard could hold down his alcohol but he never made it a habit of drinking much outside of social events. Ever since Tony was legal to (and before that) he made drinking a normal habit no matter what. Yet he only got _really_ drunk when he was actually having one of his occasional, personal turmoils.

 

“I was about to go out looking for you,” Howard sighed, setting the glass down.

 

Tony glanced at his dainty watch and grunted.

 

“I have a whole 180 seconds to spare though, why would you ever be worried.”

 

Rolling his eyes, Howard pushed a hand over his hair, slicking it back as if it needed fixing.

 

“-Plus, leaving three minutes to go looking for me is cutting it a bit close, hm?”

 

“You told me to trust you, so I tried my best.”

 

Tony narrowed his eyes as they walked toward the edge of the curtain, the girls going ahead of them to start up the crowd.

 

“You always do, don’t you.”

 

…

 

The showcase went just as smoothly as the first, and this time it was to show off one of their smaller projects; the crowd still went crazy over anything that they hadn’t seen before.

 

The lot of them scurried back backstage and were finally free for the night. Most of the showgirls went off with dates or went off to explore more of the fair, while the others stuck around to try and get it in with one of the brothers. Too bad for them, Tony was already taken for the night.

 

“You’re mine now, yeah?” the same red-head from before smiled slyly, slinking an arm around his shoulders and making a couple of the others pout.

 

“Sure am, sweetheart. I made you a promise,” Tony put a hand on her waist and pulled her against him with a chuckle, and gave the others a small wink.

 

“Don’t be too upset, ladies. I’ll make it up you later.”

 

They seemed to like what that promise implied and backed off, Howard watching the exchange with mild interest, but mostly dull expectation.

 

“Goodnight Tony, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

“Night,” Tony replied absently, giving the woman beside him a kiss on the neck just as he spoke.

 

The pair was about to start off toward the car that was parked off at the back of the event, a nice red Chevy with gold linings that was the younger Stark’s designated vehicle—accompanied by Tony’s trusted driver, until another someone came through the curtains nearby.

 

Howard looked toward him and addressed their senior colleague.

 

“Doctor?”

 

Dr. Erskine smoothed the front of his vest as he nodded at both brothers. The only person now that didn’t know the new arrival was the girl who was still clinging to Tony.

 

“I was wondering if I could talk to Tony for a moment. If it is a bad time I can wait until tomorrow,”

 

“Not at all, Doc.” The woman in the crook of his arm shot him a look, as if she expected him to take the offer to wait till tomorrow. Tony suppressed the urge to roll his eyes but grinned at her, slipping his hand from her waist slowly.

 

“Just wait in the car, doll, I won’t be long.”

 

“Alright...” And she blushed a little as Tony’s hand made its way to giving her bum a bit of a squeeze, just before she walked away toward the awaiting car.

 

Abraham had looked elsewhere during their interaction out of politeness, yet maintained his calm demeanor as he and Tony met eyes. Howard put his hands back in his pockets as he perched himself at his little brother’s side.

 

"Would you like me to leave you two alone?"

 

"No, I think it's best if you stay here as well, Howard."

 

The doctor dialed in on the younger lad, and straightened his back to state his case.

 

“I wanted to know if you would be interested in accompanying me with more observations. It is my responsibility to choose the correct candidate for Project Rebirth, and I believe having a trusted, second opinion could be of use."

 

Tony made a face.

 

"Second opinion, and I here I was thinking you already had your mind made up."

 

A slight smile crossed Dr. Erskine's face, and he adjusted his glasses.

 

"And why would you think that? Has someone made an impression on you as well?"

 

Howard looked between the two with his brows furrowed.

 

"I'm sorry, is there something I missed?"

 

Tony's lips pressed together and he rubbed the back of his neck.

 

"You know, Doc, I'd love to help you out, but I wouldn't say I'm the best person to be a judge of character. Besides, I'm still working on the hover car—"

 

"—While I agree with you on being a horrid judge of character, I think you should go." Howard interjected, nodding to himself.

 

Tony placed a hand over the middle of his chest, his eyebrows shooting up at his sibling.

 

"I didn't realize you wanted to get rid of me that bad," He feigned a hurt voice as he looked at him, honestly boggled at the reasons behind Howard's blessing.

 

"C'mon Tony. You work too hard as it is, it wouldn't be a terrible idea for you to get a bit of a break from our experiments. The car's not going anywhere."

 

"I don't need a break."

 

"Yes," Howard slapped a hand on his shoulder. "You do."

 

Tony hated any long periods away from the laboratory for several reasons. He dedicated himself to current projects — sometimes too much. Working distracted his mind. And working hard made the partying afterward that much sweeter, amongst other things.

 

Dr. Erskine cleared his throat, as Tony was about to retort.

 

"-My boy, if you're so worried about leaving your work behind, think of it as a side engagement. The quicker we chose a suitable candidate, the quicker we test, and the quicker you are back in the laboratory."

 

The resolve in Tony's eyes was beginning to waver.

 

"I suppose... watching some chumps run around in mud getting ready to be our _heroes_ of America wouldn’t be too bad. Maybe some of those guys’ll be cute, right?” Tony spoke with an air that said he didn’t really care much, though a set smirk upon his countenance. He wasn’t even totally convinced by his own words.

 

“For someone as smart as you, you’ve always been so one-track-minded.” Howard complained.

 

Chuckling, Abraham mentioned one last thing.

 

“Ms. Margaret Carter will also be there to assist in training those _heroes._ The two of you have not seen each other in quite some time, or am I mistaken?”

 

Finally Tony’s eyes sparked with an inkling of interest.

 

“Pegs?”

 

Erskine nodded.

 

Slumping his shoulders and pinching his forefinger and thumb to the bridge of his nose, the young Stark brother heaved out a breath.

 

“…Fine. I’ll go with you, Abe.”

 

The other two men couldn’t help smiling slightly at Tony’s final break.

 

“But don’t think this means I’ll be making sure I don’t take any more vacations for a while.”

 

"As I said, don't think of it as a vacation, simply a-"

 

"-Side engagement, yeah yeah. I also hope you two know I ain't guaranteeing I won't hit on any of the candidates. I saw some lookers just in the recruitment office alone,"

 

"We're expecting that much."

 

Howard snorted, slapping his brother on the back of his shoulder.

 

"Peggy will keep you in line if you go too far anyway."

 

"I bet she missed me." Tony batted his long lashes jokingly, brushing off the other's hand.

 

"Yeah, I bet she missed knocking you on your ass.”

 

Tony glowered at him.

 

“-Speaking of asses, I got a beautiful red haired lady who’s already been waiting too long in the car for me. Goodnight, you two seniors.” And he even saluted cheekily.

 

Abraham just shook his head and waved him off while Howard crossed his arms.

 

“See ya, Treble Tone.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all will enjoy this fic as much as I do writing it! I promise the story will only get better as it goes... stay tuned, and "let your dreams fly!" All comments, kudos, and constructive criticism is welcome! If there is any slang terms I use within the story you are unfamiliar with, feel free to comment as well.


	2. Good Men

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy this chapter, darlings! It's notably longer than the first, hopefully to make up for the long wait! There will be a few links throughout for music, outfits, or reference pictures that may help you imagine the story a bit better. Feel free to open them in separate tabs (They appear underlined)!

* * *

A calm sound of [a classic song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_1liUart72g) being played on piano traveled down the hallway of Stark house, along with the slighted sound of Howard’s shoes on the hard floor. Tony eyelids were lowered, his brown eyes peeking through his dark lashes as he felt his lips curve up softly.

 

His older brother slowed as he approached and silently pushed the ajar door open more, beaming when he saw the sight that was his little brother focusing at his favorite piano. When Tony focused on music his brows always raised a tiny bit, like every note lifted his spirits, and it was an absolute contrast to the way his brows would always knit themselves inward when he worked in the workshop.

 

He felt bad to have to tear Tony away from the past time, but he had already been at it since early morning, and his presence was needed elsewhere.

 

“Your ride’s here, Tony.”

 

Howard stood in the doorway of the main room of the home, where the piano sat by the window.

 

“I know,” the younger man gradually came to a decrescendo in his playing, slowing his fingers as they slid across the ivory keys. The song was not actually at its end, but Tony pressed down on the key with extra emphasis when he stopped finally.

 

“…that’s why I was sitting by the window. But I just wanted to say goodbye to my favorite thing before I went off to war!”

 

He patted the key cover after he set it in place, and then snagged his [‘Ben Hogan’ hat](http://goo.gl/ajUoYK) from utop the piano, and set it on his head. Tony wore the hat golfing a few times, but he mostly wore it for long trips or if he was to be outdoors for quite awhile. And it matched fine with the neutral color of his [coat, trousers, and vest.](http://goo.gl/1OLT0I)

 

“I can see that. And you’re not going off to war.” Howard raised his eyebrows. “You’re just taking notes.”

 

“Way to be a wet blanket.”

 

“I’ll miss ya too.” Howard snorted.

 

“I know.” Tony grinned ear-to-ear, opening the front door, taking hold of the suitcase that he had nearby to see where the car was revved and waiting.

 

“Actually, I won’t miss you, brat.” The older brother narrowed his eyes, but waved- smiling in jest as Tony climbed in the shotgun seat of the car and was driven off.

 

…

…

….

 

By some stroke of luck, Steve Rogers had found himself here. On an actual training base. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to throw away this chance that a kind soul of a doctor had given him back at the recruitment office; even _with_ the rude stares and incomprehensible side comments the other men in his line were giving him.

 

Steve stared forward with a hard resilience, even in his place toward the middle of the line where his height was really shown.

 

“Recruits, attention!”

 

All the men poised their posture and looked ahead. A woman, who had made the voice, approached with her shoulders back and a walk that commanded the attention her bold red lips asked.

 

“Gentleman, I am Agent Carter. I supervise all the operations in this division.” The tone of her English accent said that she meant business, too.

 

“…What’s with the accent, Queen Victoria? I thought I was signing up for the U.S. army.” A recruit just a couple down from Steve interjected, his annoying ignorance showing through in the comment and his lazy facial expression alone.

 

Agent Carter turned to him calmly with certain hardness behind her eyes.

 

“What’s your name, soldier?”

 

The man shifted on his feet, confident in himself and his “charm.”

 

“Gilmore Hodge, _your majesty.”_

Steve would’ve had the urge to say something if it wasn’t going to jeopardize his own first impression as a recruit to their supervisor. And besides, Ms. Carter seemed to have it all under control from what he could see.

 

“Step forward, Hodge.”

 

The man glanced at one of his buddies before smirking and doing so.

 

“Put your right foot forward.”

 

Again, he did so, throwing in a comment.

 

“Ooh, we gonna wrestle? Cause I got a few moves I know you’ll like.” He even had the nerve to wink.

 

Without another second passed, she socked the immature man right in the jaw—sending him crumbling pathetically to the dirt floor. Agent Carter showed no semblance of regret, and looked down at him knowing it was fully deserved.

 

Steve had been side glancing at the occurrence—and smiled slightly when the man hit the floor- whilst filling out the form on the clipboard that had been passed out to the rest of the recruits. He only noticed the car that pulled up just behind Carter just as the three men inside were stepping out into the slight dust cloud that had been kicked up by the tires.

 

One of them was most definitely the Colonel, based on his attire and badges; the other was Dr. Erskine, who he had already been acquainted, and the last, was… the last man _was_ the last person he’d expected to see here. He wasn’t exactly upset about seeing the inventor again, after their interesting encounter.

 

“ _Pegs_ , dear, looks like you haven’t lost that fighting spirit!” Tony bellowed, walking with a energetic hop in his step, one hand lifting the hat upon his head a bit as he noted the man holding his nose and squirming to get up.

 

Steve looked up fully from the clipboard and held it at his side just like the others, one, because the Colonel had arrived, and two, because something else caught his full attention.

 

Assumedly, _Pegs_ , was, Agent Carter, seeing as she turned on her heels sharply at the mere sound of Tony Stark’s voice.

 

Before she was fully turned, her still clenched fist was flying toward the young man’s face.

 

Both Steve and Tony’s eyes widened at the sudden movement, and Tony narrowly managed to dodge the blow because he was a bit further than Hodge had been, and somewhat saw it coming. He lurched back, his hat flying off of his head as he stumbled over his feet but stayed standing.

 

“Woah! Jesus, Peggy, what’s the deal?” Tony huffed, scooping up the hat and shaking it out as he furrowed his brows at the woman who was now fixing the bottom of her blazer, eyes still on him as well.

 

“I was simply testing your reflexes, Stark.” She shot back, turning her head to the Colonel as he finally set himself in front of the rest; Carter saluted to him. “Colonel Phillips,”

 

“- _Stark?_ Ouch,” Tony put the hat back on and [rolled up his shirt sleeves](https://goo.gl/LAHQmo); he’d left his coat in the car. Peggy glared at him. Tony suppressed a chuckle.

 

Steve was left quite clueless as to what kind of history might’ve… well, happened between the two to have them acting that way.

 

The Colonel rolled his eyes and threw a look at Dr. Erskine before putting a heavy hand on Tony’s shoulder and getting him to take a step back.

 

“…Well, I see you’re breaking in the recruits, Carter. Good!”

 

Agent Carter nodded, letting Colonel Phillips address the troops in full.

 

“Already on your ass before training even starts? Stand at attention till someone tells you what to do, soldier.” Phillips aimed towards Hodge and then looked at the rest.

 

“A general once said, ‘Wars are _fought_ with weapons but they are won _by men.’_ We are going to win this war, because we have the best… men.” Phillips paused for a moment when his eyes landed on Steve, and Steve did well to keep his eyes forward to avoid the eye contact.

 

Tony smirked a little at him, seeing as he had recognized his little friend from a mile away. Steve pretended not to notice.

 

“…And because they are going to get better,” Phillips finished, pacing down the line up slowly. “Much better.”

 

“The Strategic Scientific Reserve is an allied effort made up of the best minds of the free world. Two of those minds are standing right here, today.”

 

While the Colonel made his speech, Tony crossed his hands behind his back, relishing in being one of those minds, standing beside his friend Dr. Erskine.

 

“Our goal: Is to create the best army in history. But, every army starts with one man. In this week, we will choose that man,”

 

The young inventor’s eyes unconsciously flickered toward the shortest blond in the group of candidates.

 

“He will be the first of a new breed of Super Soldiers, and _they_ will personally escort Adolf Hitler, to the gates of hell.”

 

The real training was to begin tomorrow morning.

 

…

 

The rope climb was the first challenge of the day, following a few basic warm-ups.

 

Though it was a challenge, most of the men were flying through it- using one foot after the other even with the elasticity of the ropes making a bit hard to find a steady rhythm.

 

And then there was Steve Rogers—poor man was literally going _through_ the rope wall, his foot slipping as he reached for the next link and sending his upper half toppling back; thankfully, his feet were caught enough in the ropes to keep him from falling all the way to the bottom head first.

 

One of the loud-mouthed drill sergeant assigned to their group yelled at him, and had someone get him down from the mess.

 

Dr. Erskine and Tony were off to the side somewhere; sitting in a couple of chairs by the car they had arrived in. Erskine was jotting notes on his clipboard, and Tony was just watching, pushing up his sunglasses.

 

“I admire his efforts, I must admit.”

 

“And I agree with you.” Doc replied, looking up to see Steve pat himself off, just before hopping right back onto the rope wall- even though most of the other troops were almost at the top or done with the task and climbing down the other side.

 

Tony rolled his shoulders back and pulled out a cigarette.

 

“…What a crazy guy.” He mumbled, lighting the item between his lips and letting out a tired breath.

 

“Must you?” Erskine asked, but he didn’t seem to mind really.

 

“What? I know you’ve had your fair share of these yourself, Doc.” Tony snickered, [blowing off some smoke](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lxy9lkuC201r2bqk0o1_500.jpg), but didn’t make it a big thing to take deep inhales of the stuff; it was more of just a pass time than a habit, and he mostly did it when he was away from home.

 

Dr. Erskine clicked the pen in his hand as soon as he dotted the last period.

 

“Oh, I know.” They both laughed.

 

…

 

Next trial was, surprise surprise, the “army crawl.” It was a necessary skill, seeing as the tactics used in war were evolving everyday, and barbed wire and other obstacles would not be unfamiliar sights on the actual battlefield.

 

Nobody particularly stood out in speed, since the barbed wire was positioned as low to the ground as it could be without tearing into the recruits’ backs; if anything little Steve had an advantage with that- if not for the struggle to pull his body weight forward, as light as he was.

 

Unfortunately, he _was_ at a disadvantage—crawling behind Hodge.

 

He was only getting to about half way through the short course of barbed wire when Hodge so kindly decided to kick one of the wooden pegs that was holding up the chains of curled barbed wire, sending one side of the obstacle crumbling down and landing partially on top of Steve’s body. Thankfully it wasn’t both sides, but the pricks were definitely felt and he was sure as hell glad he had his helmet on.

 

 _“Rogers! Get that raffle outta the mud!”_ The same drill sergeant yelled, storming over to the scene to help lift the peg back where it belonged. The other troops had to crawl the rest of the way through first to safely adjust the thing, so the officer did well to bark out orders for the rest of them to ‘hurry their asses up.’

 

Hodge was basically at the end as it was and slithered out and got himself on his feet within the next minute. A shit-eating grin was on his face as he patted off the front of his uniform.

 

“Hey, you.”

 

Hodge rubbed his nose and looked up toward the voice that was coming towards him.

 

“Gilmore… _Hogs_ , was it?” Tony tilted his head while simultaneously removing the cigarette from his mouth and puffing a cloud of smoke into the recruit’s face.

 

Hodge wrinkled his nose and swatted the smoke away.

 

“Gilmore _Hodge_ , pretty boy. Aren’t you a little too rich to be all the way out here anyway?”

 

Tony laughed obnoxiously, throwing his head back just a tad at that oh- _so_ -clever retort. It was nearly laughable how an unattractively rude man such as this could have such confidence as to speak to both him and Peggy, a beautiful woman in a tone like that.

 

“Ah! That’s funny, I could’ve sworn it was Hogs.” He glanced over to where Steve was slightly wriggling underneath the heap of wires before he smirked and held his cigarette toward the trooper in front of him.

 

“-Want a smoke, soldier?”

 

“What--?”

 

Just as Hodge made a confused face, Tony dropped the half burned cigarette, precisely onto Hodge’s boot and stepped on it with his own very comfortable, luxury grade shoes.

 

Hodge let out a noise of pain but went _silent_ as soon as Tony twisted his foot that was stepping on the latter’s and used his other leg to knee the ‘soldier’ right where the sun don’t shine—putting Hodge on the ground where he belonged for the second time in two days.

 

Tony side stepped as the male curled in on himself and clutched at his bruised man parts, tears coming to his eyes.

 

“You really think I didn’t see what you did there, Hogs? I’m just gonna call you Hogs. You seem to have an affinity for rolling in mud!”

 

Steve could see the whole confrontation from where he was- embarrassingly- stuck. He would’ve laughed seeing it happen, but all he did was feel his mouth twitch into a light smile. So Tony Stark had more kick in him than just his words; he felt fulfilled and guilty at the same time, though, knowing- but not fully believing- that Tony did that because he saw what Hodge did.

 

He didn’t have to, but he did. Not many bystanders felt it was their responsibility to help, and when they didn’t they were basically bullies themselves, after all.

 

Peggy had come over to oversee the incident as well, and held her own clipboard in the crook of her arm as she put a hand on her hip, blinking at Tony’s handy-work.

 

“You always had a way with words, didn’t you.” She said sarcastically, but had a ghost of a smile on her lips as she watched the very same man she had punched just a day before limp off.

 

“You know it.”

 

By the time the exchange had passed over, the others had managed to get out of the course and lift the wires up with some tools and let Steve crawl out. Poor guy was huffing and puffing, wiping a tiny smudge of dark mud from his cheek. The loud sergeant went up to Rogers.

 

“Why is it that whenever there’s a problem I see your face, Rogers?”

 

“Sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.” Steve was not one to tattle, even if the culprit was someone as _classy_ as Gilmore Hodge.

 

“-Private Hogs over there kicked over one of the pegs. Cut this guy some slack, yeah?” Tony interrupted, patting the Lieutenant on the shoulder as if they were best chums. Said Lieutenant squinted at the inventor in disdain before grunting and looking right over his head to shout.

 

“… _Hodge!_ Five laps around the camp!”

 

Hodge was obviously still recuperating from the knee ramming into his groin just moment ago, but this Lieutenant was having none of it.

 

“Did you hear me? Five laps! Go, go, go!”

 

Hodge started jogging, still holding at his tenderized loins, before he began running his rounds at his higher officer’s consistent yells.

 

“I don’t get paid enough for this shit.” The drill sergeant grumbled as he walked away from Tony, Peggy, and Steve. Tony saluted with two fingers once the man’s back was already to all of them. It was clear that guy had it in for whoever made this training process any more difficult than it was supposed to be.

 

“…Thank you, Tony.” Steve finally spoke, still sweating a little from his predicament. It seemed he was always thanking him for something when they talked.

 

“For kneeing the piglet or for diverting the bull?”

 

“Both, I guess.” Steve smiled awkwardly, and then noticed Peggy looking between them now.

 

“Well I couldn’t just wait around while everyone else contributed**. Especially when I saw what Hogs did to ya.” Tony gave Steve a small tap on the back of his helmet before retiring his hand in a pocket. “Just watch out next time.”

 

“I can take care of myself.” Steve assured, though Tony couldn’t help feeling otherwise. He even convinced himself it was just because he felt bad for him.

 

“You two know each other?” Peggy questioned, rather confused how they would’ve met.

 

"A bit. You jealous of me meeting new people, Pegs~?"

 

Peggy gave him a tight smile.

 

"Not jealous. But I am still mad at you for before."

 

Tony wet his lips and left them agape to say something — but it was a rare occasion where no words came immediately.

 

"Ah... I can't say I blame you. I did apologize, right?”

 

“Only about 20 times, Tony.”

 

Tony broke out into one of his boyish smiles.

 

“At least you aren’t punching me or calling me Stark anymore.”

 

“Don’t push your luck.” Peggy challenged- less threatening than before. She glimpsed back at Steve friendlily.

 

“You had better catch up with the rest of your squad now, Mr. Rogers. Your sergeant will be done drilling Hodge soon enough,” She nodded her head the direction of the other recruits, and Steve stared up at her for a second before nodding and saluting out of respect.

 

“Yes, ma’am.” And he jogged off, obviously trying to preserve energy but making haste all the same.

 

“…At least he has manners.” Peggy said wistfully, still feeling pretty content in having seen Hodge get the treatment he deserved after pulling such an awful stunt.

 

“He’s got a lot more than just manners to him.” Tony snorted, and Peggy rose a dark brow at him in curiosity.

 

…

…

…

 

More drills had ensued, and the next day the Sgt. Decided it was time they all started taking their daily laps around the dirt path that looped around the campsite after Hodge set the example.

 

Colonel Phillips had instructed Agent Carter to take the shotgun seat of the car and drive ahead of the path, taking tabs on all of the recruits on the way before reaching the end. Dr. Erskine cut in and suggested Tony go as well, if only to get more insight on which could be the star candidate of the bunch. Said 23-year-old gladly obliged.

 

He offered to drive but was reminded that his objective was to observe—and well—observing people trekking behind and driving didn’t exactly mix.

 

The two of them walked to the side of the vehicle and just as Peggy was about to open the front passenger seat door their driver said something.

 

“If Mr. Stark is coming, wouldn’t you prefer to sit in the back then, Miss Carter?”

 

Tony sent the man a look, his brows arched with a slight frown tugging at his mouth.

 

“That won’t be necessary. Agent Carter is a higher rank than me here, and anywhere, really-“ He popped open the back seat door for himself. “She takes shotgun, I can take the back seat just fine.”

 

Peggy’s face had dropped a tad at the type of 'subtly' sexist remarks that men so often gave her. She had proved her worth to herself and others enough so that it shouldn't happen, but it always did. A mix of frustration and annoyance touched her brown eyes, but she got into the front passenger seat without another word— glancing back at Tony to see him putting on his sunglasses, a tiny smile returned to her all the same.

 

It was things like this that had made Peggy initially take a liking to Tony, and why she still considered him a friend, but that didn't change the fact Tony was far from being a perfect - or a completely honorable man.

 

The driver dropped the subject without really registering his error, and the man in the back seat tapped the side of the convertible vehicle.

 

"Let's go then!"

 

The car engine roared to life and the drill Sgt had just sent the recruits to start their run. It was moments before the car drove around the organized troop and was driving at a steady pace just ahead of them.

 

After the first few miles most of the men had worked up a decent sweat, but weren't slowing down – not that their sergeant wasn't screaming at them to keep going.

 

"Let's pick up the pace, ladies!" The officer commanded, jogging right there with all of them.

 

"Let's go! Double time, double time!"

 

Steve was falling behind, and he was clearly dying with every second that passed, but the two observers in the car admired his strength to keep going without stopping at all. He was trailing behind a good ten feet but he wasn't gonna give up.

 

"Faster! Move! Move!" The Sgt kept up the steady pace of the group's running efficiently.

 

Soon enough, however, the vehicle reached a checkpoint, now quite a bit ahead of the rest, and stopped just ahead of a flag post.

 

"Squad, halt!"

 

The recruits in question came to a stop, puffs of dirt flying into the air as all of their feet slowed and grounded.

 

Steve walked a few more steps before hunching over and putting his hands on his knees to finally get some well-needed air back in his lungs.

 

"Men! That flag marks the half-way point!" The commanding officer barked, pointing sky-high at the item.

 

"– First man to bring it to me gets a ride back with Agent Carter and Stark! Now move!"

 

As expected, every single male sprung into action, scrambling towards the flag pole and half piling onto and tripping over one another and half clinging desperately to the slippery edges of the metal beam. Hodge somehow made the best effort he could and made it a solid... three and a half feet off the ground, scooting up little by little before sliding pathetically back down. More men jumped on the open opportunity and failed just the same.

 

The only one who didn't have a go at shimmying his way up to that flag was– you guessed it – Stevie Rogers. Steve had gotten out of his breathless state a bit and stood up to watch his fellow men struggle in vain. Tony blinked at the sight. For some reason he had expected more, at least a try, after everything else Steve had done prior to now; Tony supposed the blonde simply didn't have the stamina in him and thought it smart to preserve energy. Nothing wrong with that.

 

"Nobody's gotten that flag in 17 years!" Drill Sergeant announced, a twinge of amusement easily heard for once in his amplified voice. "Now fall back in line! C’mon, let's go!"

 

One more guy had tried to get up a last time before they all sighed and did as they were told, readjusting some of their helmets from the mayhem.

 

But again, Steve was the outcast; he chose now to have his go at getting the flag.

 

Peggy had her eyes trained on the still, slightly panting Rogers as he ignored orders for a moment and approached the flagpole. Tony was much the same.

 

"What's he up to now, Pegs?" Tony muttered. Peggy didn't respond immediately.

 

"-Rogers! I said fall in!"

 

Again Steve ignored the order. Simply, he reached down, undid a latch, and pulled out the large screw that held up the entire flagpole.

 

The metal rod came down with a clang and the flag was now in a position even the ants on the floor could climb on it. Steve Rogers calmly walked up to it and untied the article from its strings.

 

Everyone went silent as he folded it over and handed it to the commanding officer.

 

"Thank you, sir." Was all Steve said, climbing into the awaiting vehicle. Tony had just popped open the back door for him, scooting over so the other man could get in- all while smirking harder than he had in a good while. Well, that's what the Stark got for even considering that Steve Rogers was gonna give up on anything.

 

The car roared back to life and drove onward, leaving both the drill sergeant and the tired recruits - literally - in the dust.

 

"Good job, Steve." Peggy congratulated, deeming it acceptable for first names to be used, given the fact Tony always did it and the fact there weren’t any officers to say anything about it anyway. Steve didn't mind of course, and beamed at the praise.

 

Tony gave Steve a pat on the shoulder, being as his arm was perched on the back of the car seat and his hand was in the right position to do so.

 

"I would've done the same thing. Who knew you were so clever."

 

Steve's already present simper broadened a tad more at yet another compliment, and for a moment – almost thought he felt his heart jolt when Tony gave his shoulder a joking squeeze.

 

...

 

The days continued and soon enough they were already half way through the week. The recruits were all on their hands and toes, doing relentless amounts of push-ups at the command of Peggy.

 

"Faster ladies! My grandmother has more life in her, God rest her soul." She paced with her hands on her hips while the soldiers tried their very best at impressing.

 

Tony was taking a swig of water from his bottle, and scratched his brow as he looked over the group, as he did most of his time on the campsite - he was supposed to be anyway. No matter what, his eyes would pull toward the smallest of the group, who somehow the one that had the biggest presence to him. Tony didn't really know why. Maybe it was just bias because he'd talked to him before, and had a feeling about him the moment he knew Dr. Erskine had been the one to get him in the group. Maybe even before then.

 

Steve often noticed that there was a pair of eyes on him; a pair that he'd already started becoming accustomed to seeing on a daily basis nowadays. He didn't try to think too much on it, he assumed Tony was just doing as he was supposed to and looking at each of the candidates as potential super soldiers; if anything he looked at him as a man in the running for that opportunity _the least._

 

That was not the case at all.

 

While doing push-ups— or, trying to do one proper one and mostly just lifting his torso up off the ground every few seconds; Steve let out a rough breath, riling up a little dust and making him cough for a second. He turned his head away from the dirt ground to catch a breath, and caught Tony's eye. Tony smiled in amusement just a moment before he was turned away when Dr. Erskine tapped him on the shoulder.

 

 _'Don't stop expecting things out of yourself.'_ The slightest of expressions seemed to remind Steve of what Tony had told him the first night they met. Steve went back down into another push-up, his arms shaking a tiny bit.

 

Colonel Phillips wanted to talk to the both of them about- what else? The candidacy for the recruits. The three men started walking casually, side by side, occasionally taking a look or two at the men in training.

 

"You're not really thinking about picking Rogers are you?" The question was addressed mostly to Dr. Erskine, though Tony didn't intend on answering at the moment anyway.

 

"I was not just thinking about it. It's the clear choice." Abraham answered, no doubt in his voice.

 

"If you brought a 90 pound asthmatic into my army base, I would figure what the hell, he might be useful to you. Like a gerbil or something,"

 

Tony winced a little at the vocabulary.

 

"But I never thought you'd pick him."

 

Dr. Erskine was quite unphased by the notion. Tony quietly listened and watched as the recruits moved on to jumping jacks. He usually aimed at not fighting battles for people he had immense respect for - and if that was anybody- that was Abraham Erskine. Dr. Erskine had been a rock for him on many occasions, whenever he didn't want to talk to Howard. He was one of those quiet but very attentive listeners, and somehow always had some sort of wisdom to shed.

 

And Tony was not usually one that liked to be lectured.

 

Of course, as hard-headed and outspoken as he was, Tony did step in to conflicts if he saw someone who needed help, not out of pity but out of necessity. He never paid mind to it, and not many people were typically around to notice it — just because he usually covered it up by flirting with whomever he’d assisted.

 

All that in mind, Tony found it harder and harder not to break his code in this situation, as Colonel Phillips kept talking.

 

"- Put a needle in that kid's arm and it'll go right through him. Look at that. He's makin' me cry!"

 

The three of them looked in unison at Steve, who was now slightly flailing his slender arms as he kept up as fast a pace as he could manage with the jumping jacks. The effort was clear in his face and the sweat that was running down it.

 

"I am looking for qualities beyond the physical." Erskine sighed.

 

In all honesty, Tony found his relentless efforts admirable. Endearing. It was that resilience and need to keep trying – even when it was exhausting- that Tony identified with. Moreover, he knew Steve could feel the negative and judgmental eyes from all his fellow squad members whenever he did just about anything; that sort of thing is harder to ignore. When Tony worked he preferred to work alone or in the mostly quietly focused company of his older brother.

 

But, you can imagine the frustration he felt when the Colonel began complaining about all the groveling and things he had to do in order to make this project happen, as if Steve was the ultimate threat to it simply because he wasn't the most in shape body present here. What’s more, the old man had the audacity to praise _Hogs_.

 

"Do you have any idea how much time it took to set up this project?"

 

"I know, yes, I am well aware of your efforts–"

 

"Well, throw me a bone then. Hodge has passed every test we've given him. He's big, he's fast, he obeys orders– he's a soldier."

 

"– _Hodge_ is an arrogant child who doesn't show respect for anyone but himself, sir." Tony suddenly interrupted, eyes lingering over at the two men that were the subjects of this conversation.

 

"You're one to talk, Mr. Stark. You're barely legal to drink alcohol, I highly doubt you have any experience in the military field, and you certainly carry yourself like you think you own everything here."

 

Tony stared hard at the Colonel. Dr. Erskine straightened his shoulders and let Tony have his piece.

 

"You may be ancient compared to me, that's true, but that's not what we're talking about. We're talking about how Hodge has managed to get himself landed on the ground twice in one week from insulting his superiors here and purposely putting one of the fellow members of the squad in danger."

 

"On the battlefield _danger_ is never gonna leave. Soldiers need to be prepared to get themselves out of that, or they die. Hodge learned his lesson. And as for the insults, Stark, you do not win wars with _niceties_ ,"

 

Something always struck a nerve when someone Tony didn’t like called him Stark in _that_ tone, like they thought that’s all he was – a Stark.

 

The colonel stormed the very small distance between them and an army vehicle, snatching a grenade from the box in the flatbed of the car.

 

Tony narrowed his eyes, something akin to near rage bubbling in his chest at the fact this old man seemed to believe a man as detestable as Gilmore Hodge should even be considered for the golden innovation that was Project Rebirth. He would've said something nasty if it weren't for the suddenness of Colonel Phillips yanking the pin off of said grenade.

 

"– You win wars with _guts."_

 

And he _tossed_ the damn thing into the array of soldiers still slaving away at jumping jacks.

 

**"Grenade!"**

 

Tony's eyes widened and he swore he never felt his stomach drop to his feet so fast as when the entire group _bolted_ away from the bomb, ducking for cover — except Steve Rogers.

 

"Christ," Tony blasphemed, his heart racing as Steve surged forward without hesitation, and draped his body over the grenade, suffocating it.

 

"Steve —" Tony choked, not even aware of how he probably sounded, or if he'd even actually spoken aloud just then, but it was like the entire world slowed its pace just for everyone around to absorb this moment. There was just this moment of absolute dread he felt when he thought that one split second would be the end of one of the few, actually decent and interesting people he’d only just started to find more about.

 

"Get back!" Steve yelled, swiping his arm once to emphasize his command as he continued squeezing his eyes shut, and curled in more.

 

The grenade didn't detonate.

 

_Of course it was a dud._

 

Everyone in the small area peeked out from wherever they had hid, that be a vehicle or some boxes or something else solid; their eyes showed mixed emotions of respect or awe. Even Hodge seemed to crack.

 

The haze slowly cleared, to Tony at least, and he found that he was standing only a couple feet from Steve now, his eyes wide and his pupils slightly dilated.

 

After seconds ticked by, Steve's eyes opened up gradually, and his breaths steadied. His blue eyes traveled upward and found Tony's figure hovering over him, blocking out the beating sun.

 

"...is this a test?" Steve drawls, one eye still a bit squinted as rays from the sun managed to get around Tony's head.

 

Said inventor's eyebrows furrowed and he kind of shook his head; mostly to himself.

 

"I'd wager to say yes, it was a test.” An unannounced, and unasked for _test,_ the man spat at the Colonel in his brain. “And also yes, that is the most stupid thing I've ever witnessed a man do in my entire life on this earth, Baby Blues."

 

A new nickname slipped out of his mouth before he even had to think it over. It was something that resulted when Tony had some rush of emotion – that be positive, negative, etc. But it was mostly because that was what he noticed the most when Steve looked up at him; even in the shadow of his own body those light blue irises made a pop against the fella’s dirtied face.

 

His arm was outstretched and Steve got up from the grenade to take ahold of the latter's hand, which enveloped his own smaller one completely, just as it did before when they introduced themselves. But it didn't make Steve feel small; it made him feel secure somehow.

 

Heart beating against his ribcage, the irregular heartbeat almost hurting, Steve had felt himself accept a fate of death and at the same time, that feeling that he _didn’t want to die_ – he _wanted to save others_ – all in the seconds it took for him to jump on that grenade. It was a reflexive action, and though he didn’t want to die, he didn’t regret having done it.

 

Even so… a warm hand gripping tight to his own lightly shaking one did make his heart calm down. Maybe even lessened the chest pain he already sometimes felt due to his health conditions, just a little.

 

“Why don’t we take a short break, yeah, Pegs?” Tony suggested, seeing as Peggy was still staring at the two of them as Steve brushed himself off.

 

“Good idea.” And she smiled ever so slightly, finally exhaling.

 

…

 

Not soon after the entire incident, Erskine and Tony found that Phillips had nowhere near as many insults to aim at Steve. Something shifted in his very one-track-minded, hardened way of thinking, and he had walked off to sort out his own thoughts.

 

Tony had had enough seeing Steve meet every expectation a person could have for a righteous, selfless lad that was literally ready to lay down his life for the sake of his fellow Americans. They weren’t even on the damn battlefield yet.

 

Seeing such extraordinary actions was such a contrast to the usual display of people simply flaunting the material things they owned; bravery wasn’t something you could buy, and unfortunately, Tony knew that full well.

 

Steve Rogers was really doing one helluva job knocking down Tony’s self-esteem.

 

People “loved” Tony Stark and praised him just for showing off some fancy car while nobody ever praised or recognized the little guy from Brooklyn- yet Steve insisted on showing off his heroic splendor to the world anyway, even if the world might not have deserved it.

 

Tony sat in the familiarity of his car, sinking into the plush leather seats and twisting off the cap of a flask he had in the glove compartment. He had sent the driver back home, since he didn’t need to be driven around much aside from when the recruits went on runs, but he had requested they leave his car here.

 

He took a swig and felt the burn trickle down his throat. Kinda forgot what brand his had in the flask, but whatever he drank was never weak stuff.

 

 _Steve Rogers probably never had a drink of the good stuff like this._ He thought, and as rare of an occasion as it was, he almost let the alcohol he’d been holding in his mouth slide down the wrong way, and coughed a little bit.

 

 _Probably never sat in a car this nice._ Tony told himself, shifting his body in the chair almost uncomfortably, though the seats were perfectly fine. Did these seats always feel this lumpy?

 

Setting the flask down and holding it on his legs, Tony wrapped a hand around the steering wheel’s polished surface.

 

“Wonder if he ever even drove one of these.”

 

Tony didn’t know what made him feel worse:

 

That he was assuming Steve had literally lived the worst life imaginable, considering he was part of the lower class of New York, or that he was realizing how much more an actual _good guy_ like Steve deserved to be sitting in a car like this, rather than the god-awful spring bed of the infirmary they had sent him to after the grenade shenanigans.

 

Maybe he should talk to Abraham. It wasn’t healthy for any a man to think this about himself. Let alone think this hard about another man, as cute as Tony knew Steve was in all his 90-pound glory. Though the looks weren’t the worse he’d ever seen, especially when he actually caught the guy smile a tad after his triumph at the flagpole, it was more the things he did that intrigued Tony.

 

It was obvious to anyone that what Colonel Phillips had said about Steve was right- he was light, had asthma, heart irregularities, amongst other things, but he never mentioned those things as an excuse. The only way Tony knew about the specifics was through the files he’d skimmed through of division’s men.

 

And he’d thought to unscrew the flagpole rod when nobody- apart from Tony’s inventor mind- had probably even considered that. Thinking around what was right in front of them.

 

Tony shook his head when he realized he was self-praising himself subconsciously, taking a large gulp of his drink and popping open the car door. He hated doing that. Because that’s all anyone ever praised him about, his brains- because they simply didn’t care what else Tony did outside of inventing.

 

He decided maybe a late night walk would do him more good rather than passing out in his car or anything like that. Then he would go speak to Dr. Erskine about Project Rebirth.

 

They had officially chosen Steve Rogers as their candidate, afterall.

 

Upon leaving the comfort of his car and lacklusterly locking the door, Tony took his flask with him, sipping as he mindlessly walked through the dimly lit camp. He passed by the obstacle courses that were still set up, and wandered through the areas outside the bunkers.

 

Eventually, he heard a door slam behind him, and out walked the Colonel from the master bunker, a cigar in his mouth.

 

The younger male stopped in his tracks, nonchalantly twisting his body around to look at who he only half-expected to be there. Phillips exhaled a large puff of smoke and tapped the cigar to let the ashes fall off the end, and looked back at him.

 

“Too anxious to hit the hay, Stark?”

 

Of course the elder was too hard-headed to use any nicer name than just _Stark_ , but there was no longer that malicious or annoyed tone behind the word.

 

“I’m used to long nights. Usually I’m a little more busy though.” Tony wondered if the subtle reference even registered in the old fart’s head. He thought cheekily that the man probably hadn’t had any semblance of _action_ since he last served in the army as an actual front-line troop.

 

Clearly the officer did get what Tony was implying, however, and he rolled his eyes.

 

“That’s all kids ever think about nowadays, isn’t it?”

 

“I only stay busy during the night because I _don’t_ want to think, sir.”

 

Colonel Phillips took another draw of his cigar.

 

“I will admit I respect what Rogers did out there.” He said, eyes staring up as the clouds passed overhead.

 

Tony perked up, a brow raised.

 

“Oh yeah? So what.”

 

“I’m saying I can see what you and the Doctor saw in the kid. I get it; he’s got balls, all right. But I’m still skeptical about whether or not he can handle the heat of this project.”

 

Lowering the flask in his hand, Tony held a blank expression on his face.

 

“Why’s that?”

 

“I’m no scientist, but this is going to be the first test of this medicine – or chemical you all are working on. The kid’s got health problems as it is, so I don’t know if his body’ll take it.”

 

“If Steve thinks he can take it, then he can. If he wants to decline, we’re not forcing him. But they say the power of will is stronger than any feat of strength otherwise.”

 

Colonel Phillips just nodded.

 

“Let’s hope you’re right, Stark. If this project goes haywire there’s a lot of asses that are gonna be in deep shit.”

 

Tony shrugged, though there was this crippling sense of anxiety about the whole thing rising up behind all of his anticipation of something great happening with this. Not only would super soldiers change everything, but also if this thing worked, it would be just about the greatest thing he and Howard would have been a part of that actually helped the bigger picture.

 

And of course, if this thing worked, it would mean they hadn’t killed Steve Rogers or given him something that added onto the list of health deficiencies; because god knows Tony would not be able to live with that sort of guilt on his shoulders.

 

So much passed through Tony’s mind within moments, but by the time he’d shrugged his shoulders, he was already shooting off at the mouth never missing a beat outwardly.

 

“What’s life without some risks?”

 

…

…

…

 

Dr. Erskine had went to the infirmary to visit Steve, all while everyone else was heading off to bed and all while Tony and Colonel Phillips were having their level-headed chat. There were no actual problems that needed addressing health wise, so there were no nurses in the bunker.

 

Steve was the only one in the structure, sitting up at the edge of the bed with a book in his hands. Steve ran a finger down the page as he read, absentmindedly thinking about how nice it would be to sketch something out right now- considering everything running through his mind.

 

He felt calm only because he didn’t fully believe that they had chosen him to be the so-called first super soldier. All he wanted was to be able to join the army, help, and fight by his colleagues sides and maybe meet up with Bucky along the way at some point.

 

But never this.

 

When there came the knock at the door from Erskine, Steve looked up from the book- noticing he was stuck on the same page for a while now.

 

“May I?” The doctor requested to accompany him.

 

“Yeah.”

 

Abraham pushed through and brought with him a couple of glasses and a bottle.

 

“Can’t sleep?”

 

“Just got the jitters I guess,”

 

Erskine feigned a short laugh.

 

“Me too.” And he set the glasses down on a chest that was propped by the bedframe, taking a seat across from Rogers.

 

“Can I ask you a question?” Steve shut the book and put it on the bed, giving his undivided attention.

 

“Just one,”

 

“…Why me?”

 

“I suppose that is the only question that matters,” Abraham turned the bottle toward the latter, showing the label.

 

“This is from Augsburg; my city. So many people forget that the first country the Nazis invaded was their own. You know, after the war my people struggled, they felt weak, they felt small- then Hitler comes along with the big show and the flags… and he hears of me. My work.” He points a finger figuratively at Steve.

 

“He finds me and says, ‘You, you will make us strong.’ Well, I am not interested.” Erskine shrugs, placing the bottle on the floor a second.

 

“So he sends the head of Hydra, his research division, a brilliant scientist by the name of Johann Schmidt; Schmidt is a member of the inner circle. He is ambitious and he and Hitler share a passion for occult power- a myth. Hitler uses this fantasy to inspire his followers, but for Schmidt it is _not_ fantasy, for him, it is real. He’s become convinced that there is a great power hidden in the earth- left here by the gods waiting to be seized by the superior men.”

 

Erskine adjusted his glasses, continuing the story.

 

“He cannot resist. Schmidt must become that superior man. So he injected the serum into himself.”

 

Steve stared at the doctor in curiosity, his eyes focused.

 

“Did it make him stronger?”

 

“Yes, but there were other… effects. The serum was not ready,”

 

Abraham made purposeful eye contact with Steve to accentuate his point now.

 

“But more important, _the man_. You see, the serum amplifies things that is inside- so- _good_ becomes _great_ ; _bad_ becomes _worse_.

 

Steve just listened closely.

 

“This is why you were chosen. Because a strong man can lose respect for that power, while a weak man knows the value of strength, and knows _compassion_.”

 

Steve’s eyes lowered in thought, and he took in everything he could. Not many had ever spoken to him like this, so meaningfully or with such a need to tell him what good he had going for him, rather than the negatives of what he was on the outside.

 

Nobody except Buck or… even Tony.

 

 _‘_ _Keep expectin' things out of yourself. That's a gift not everyone's got.’_

 

Steve returned to the present and cracked a smile at the wiser man across from him.

 

“Thanks. I think.” He breathed a laugh, and grabbed the glasses beside him when he saw Dr. Erskine reach for the bottle again.

 

He removed the cap off the bottle, smirking as he poured them both a bit of it.

 

“Don’t just thank me. Mr. Stark certainly put in some choice words for you when Colonel Phillips recommended some of his choices for the project.”

 

“Tony?”

 

Steve furrowed his eyebrows, the crooked smile on his lips never leaving as he held the glass cups still.

 

Erskine nodded, noticing the tiny details like Steve swirling the liquid in his glass just once subconsciously when he mentioned his young, fellow scientist. Abraham took one of the glasses from Steve.

 

“…Whatever happens tomorrow, you must promise me one thing,”

 

Abraham took a moment to shut his eyes before he opened them and turned more serious.

 

“That you will stay _who_ you are. Not a perfect soldier, but a good man,“

 

He pointed to Steve’s heart and smiled genuinely, a tinge of unseen concern behind his eyes and specs.

 

“And look out for the other good men, who don’t see it in themselves.”

 

Steve gazed down at his own chest a fleeting second before he raised his cup for a toast.

 

“To the little guys,”

 

They clinked glasses. But just as Steve was about to drink his share, Abraham reached forward quickly, snagging the glass from his hand.

 

“ _Woah, no no no_ , you have a procedure tomorrow, no fluids!”

 

Steve’s mouth hung open and he breathed out, understanding.

 

“…Alright, we’ll drink it after.” Steve resolved, content.

 

_“-Drinking without me are we, fellas?”_

Both men easily recognized the common, chipper, almost mischievous voice of Tony as he slunk in suddenly, walking over.

 

Erskine held up the two cups now in his hand.

 

“It looks like you’ve already had some yourself, my boy.” Given the now empty flask Tony was still holding. “But no, only me.”

 

Tony snickered and glanced down at Steve.

 

“Cause of the procedure or the fact Stevie probably can’t keep down his alcohol?”

 

“I’m sure I can keep it down better than you think.” Steve challenged, completely light-hearted, since, actually yeah, he almost passed out after drinking a few swigs from a beer bottle Buck had brought him after he’d returned from a night out on the town.

 

“I’ll just have to take you to a bar to test that theory sometime then, buddy. But for now,” Tony held a hand to Abraham, who handed him a glass.

 

“Me and Doc are going to enjoy some good German liquor. At least it’s one good thing that came from there,”

 

Dr. Erskine gave him a look that almost suggested offense.

 

“As opposed to Nazis I mean,” Tony corrected, practically just inhaling the half glass that had been poured.

 

“Well, we can certainly all agree to that.”

 

All three of them raised their glasses casually, Steve just raising a c-shaped hand pretending to hold one as well, and had a couple laughs about some of their triumphs during this week of training and imagining Steve trying to drink more than _the_ Tony Stark. It was a short, but pleasant time shared before each headed off to their quarters for rest before the big day.

 

…

…

…

 

“Welcome back, Tone.” Howard had greeted, yanking the younger brother into a side hug by wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Tony had to pry himself away before Howard got any ideas about messing up his hair, which he’d just slicked back for the big procedure today. He didn’t need any loose strands tickling his brow or falling over his eyes.

 

“You really did miss me, eh?”

 

“Not as much as you wish.” Howard jabbed, telling Tony stories about how many women he’d been able to bring home while the house was vacated from the younger’s presence. They both re-entered the laboratory where Project Rebirth was to become a reality, joining the several other scientists who had contributed to the cause. Each and every one of them was dressed in a white lab coat.

 

“Are you ready?” Dr. Erskine asked, seeing as Tony broke away from his brother, taking a seat next to the large panel of buttons, knobs, and meters that measured and monitored all the statistics of when they finally carried out the injection.

 

“Ready as I’ll ever be. Not that I really need to be prepared for anything-- only possible humiliation in front of a board of people and possible blame for destroying a bright, upstanding man in a chemical experiment.” He flashed a cheeky smile just for the hell of it.

 

Abraham knew all that fleeting; wide-mouthed smile meant was that Tony Stark was a nervous wreck inside.

 

Tony slipped on a pair of [dark-rimmed glasses](http://www.movpins.com/big/MV5BMTI4ODcwMjI3MF5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTcwMDA3NDgwMw/still-of-robert-downey-jr.-in-soapdish.jpg) as he leaned his hip against the sleeping panel of electronics. He hadn’t needed them whilst observing on the base, but he did need it whenever he read up on documents up-close, as odd as the logic of needing assistance seeing something right in front of you and not needing assistance seeing something a mile away was.

 

The young inventor picked up the clipboard that was resting at the end of the panels, lifting the top form to gaze upon the chart that detailed all of Steven Grant Rogers’ health data. It was a reminder of all the things they hoped to rid Steve of today.

 

The list went on from arrhythmia (irregular heartbeat), asthma, flat feet, scarlet fever at a young age, and even partial color blindness, amongst... even more things.

 

Erskine watched him skim over the page for a moment or two before he rolled his chair closer, addressing him individually.

 

“Tony,”

 

“Yeah, Doc?”

 

“Even before the procedure, I wanted to thank you for all your assistance.”

 

Tony lowered the clipboard.

 

“Not only did you help me in the laboratory before hand, you helped me get Mr. Rogers here. And of course, let’s not forget how much you helped me clear my mind when you let me listen in on your playing the piano when you and Howard allowed me to work in your company.”

 

Tony’s mouth hitched up into a slight smile. Erskine liked to be the one that reminded him constantly about how much he had to offer the world, motivated him, and convinced him that he motivated him in return; one could say he was almost like a father.

 

The doctor set a light hand on his shoulder.

 

“You are a great mind, but you needn’t work so hard. You should play something for me and your brother after the procedure, heaven knows we all need to get some stress off our shoulders.”

 

“Wouldn’t we need to run some more tests?”

 

“Well, yes. But even when you’re making history, you mustn’t forget to give yourself time to do something you like to do simply because you like doing it.”

 

Tony nodded slowly, wondering for a short while why Dr. Erskine felt the need to baby him; it wasn’t like he never enjoyed a little free time… he did that at least once a week.

 

“I have a couple new pieces I was learning late at night before I went to the camp for the observations, but they’re still a bit rusty.”

 

“Sounds splendid.” Erskine smiled back, giving one more pat on the shoulder before going off to speak to the other scurrying scientists who were checking to make sure everything was still stable.

 

Tony eventually dropped it and glanced back down at the clipboard again, scrunching his nose up a bit to adjust the glasses frames perched on it.

 

“So lil Stevie is older than me afterall…” He grumbled, blinking at the age listed: 25 in comparison to Tony’s 23 years.

 

Steve was apparently getting a ride here with Peggy to lead him; there were certain codes that were needed to be granted access to this secret laboratory, where it was hidden behind and underneath an old antique shop in Brooklyn. It’s location was so they had access to the power grid, and were undoubtedly under the radar; but even so:

 

Fitting, wasn’t it, that it was all going to happen in Brooklyn.

 

Five or so minutes passed, and Tony found that his impatience and anxiety were mixing into an unpleasant mess that was himself; thankfully, the double doors on the platform above the main part of the lab opened up just then… Peggy and the man of honor stepping through and effectively silencing the bustle of the “greatest minds of the allied forces” spewing scientific jargon.

 

They all turned their heads in such unison that one could almost think those awaiting double doors had attachments to each of their heads, pulling their attentions its direction.

 

Peggy touched the steel handle bars of the platform, eyes sweeping over the many, many people present, while Steve came forward in awe, seeing for the first time just how big this thing really was—and he was the biggest piece to it, somehow.

 

This was something bigger than he ever anticipated himself to be a part of… he had to make sure to make everyone that got him here proud.

 

He had to make sure to make himself proud, too.

 

Following Peggy down the metal staircase, Steve’s eyes landed on the large bed-type contraption, it was surrounded by tubes of chemicals and steel, and Steve’s only guess was that that was where he was going to end up.

 

Someone bumped him on the side of his arm with a clipboard.

 

“You never told me you were older than me, Baby Blues. Or that your name was Steven.” A bit of a condescending, almost scolding voice came from Tony as he snuck up on him.

 

Steve turned but stopped his retort short upon seeing a slightly different Tony than he was used to.

 

“You didn’t tell me you wore glasses,” Steve quipped, though he found himself staring at the unfamiliar but not-unpleasant sight of the slightly rounded frames sitting upon the man’s nose. They were clean and sort of just, accentuated the largeness of Tony’s dark eyes.

 

“Still got better vision than you, I bet.” Tony supplied, jokingly wiggling the glasses on his face with one hand before glancing over Steve’s head at Peggy.

 

“Stevie didn’t cause you any trouble?”

 

“Not in the least. He could use a little help with small talk, however.” Peggy made a rare little tease at the smallest male, smiling at him as though to ease his nervousness.

 

Steve broke his eyes away from Tony’s face, hoping he hadn’t really been staring as long as it felt like he was. He hadn’t, really, but it certainly felt like he was staring.

 

Dr. Erskine joined them in the next instant, addressing Steve Rogers directly and finally ready to carry out the procedure. He held out a hand to shake Steve’s.

 

“Are you ready?”

 

Steve accepted the shake, and as he was nodding a flash went off in their faces.

 

Erskine narrowed his eyes at the media man who had just snapped a picture of their handshake and shook his head at him.

 

“Not now, please.”

 

The doctor watched the media man scurry off, muttering an apology, though it was clear he didn’t mean it – he was a media man. Abraham sighed, getting back to the task at hand.

 

“If you are ready, you may remove your shirt, your tie, and your hat.”

 

Steve unconsciously glanced between the three people he knew, back at Peggy and then forward at Tony and Abraham; he wasn’t sure if it was a feeling of embarrassment about half stripping or just plain jitters.

 

After a second of slight fumbling, he took off his uniform hat, folding it and handing it over to a woman who was there to take his things for him. Just as he was loosening his tie, Tony slapped a hand on his shoulder, staring down at him.

 

“Uhm… one second, Stevie.”

 

Steve stopped, blinking up at him.

 

“Just in case this… doesn’t go right, or you… change your mind,”

 

It was a little late for that, they all knew.

 

“Don’t think I’m odd or anything but, just,”

 

Tony gave his shoulder a squeeze and flickered his eyes to the side to be sure the media man wasn’t around. Everyone else could see them, obviously, but he didn’t need this being all over the newspapers.

 

“Bring it in, Baby Blues. You got more bravery than anyone else I know for doin’ this-“

 

And he yanked him into a short, but tight hug, before Steve had the chance to fully wrap either of his arms around the latter’s torso. Tony pulled back first, both his hands on both of his shoulders for an awkward moment before he pocketed his hands into his lab coat, glaring off to the side when he saw the media man with a half raised camera on the stairwell.

 

No flash had gone off, thankfully.

 

“A-Ah… Tha-- thank you, Tony.” Steve could’ve sworn he felt the back of his neck turn a little warmer just then, but it was _probably_ because of the slight sweat he’d started to feel from the pressure and responsibility building on his shoulders.

 

Peggy smirked subtly, almost wanting to laugh. It was adorable to see Tony actually losing his cool a bit for once, because he was too ashamed to admit how much he cared about his friend, even if they hadn’t known each other long.

 

Tony avoided her eye contact because he knew she always noticed stuff like that.

 

“Here we go then.” He mumbled, rubbing his nose and stepping down from the platform where the chamber was.

 

Abraham suggested Peggy go up to the booth where the other officials that weren’t scientists- like Colonel Phillips were going to watch the procedure from behind the glass. She agreed.

 

Steve climbed onto the chamber bed, shifting his shoulders on the flat surface.

 

“Comfortable?” Erskine asked.

 

“It’s a little big,” Steve tried to joke, blinking at the lights on the ceiling.

 

“You save me any of that schnapps..?”

 

The doctor snickered.

 

“Not as much as I should have. Sorry. But Tony did promise he would treat you to some drinks, so be sure to remind him.”

 

“Couldn’t miss out on that.”

 

Howard stepped onto their platform; glancing over Steve and having one of the assistants secure a strap across the blonde’s midriff.

 

“Howard, how are your levels?”

 

“Levels at one hundred percent.”

 

Tony leaned on the railings that surrounded the round platform from where he was standing on the other side of it by the control panels.

 

“We may dim half the lights in Brooklyn,” The younger Stark reminded with the ghost of a smile on his face, sounding dramatic though they both knew it was true. Howard rolled his shoulders back, seeming calm.

 

“But we’re ready.” Howard glanced down at Steve, who he hadn’t really met before now. “As we’ll ever be.”

 

Erskine let out a breath, picking up a microphone that was set for him; it was time he addressed everyone up in the sky booth that were so eagerly awaiting the exciting presentation. He gave the contraption a few taps with his finger to test the sound and be sure everyone was listening.

 

“Ladies and gentleman, today, we take not another step toward annihilation- but the first step on the path to peace.”

 

The chest plates connected to the chamber were lowered onto Steve’s torso and a cart was rolled out that held the tubes of bright blue serum to be placed in the awaiting slots of the chamber.

 

“We begin with a series of micro injections to the subject’s major muscle groups. The serum infusion will cause _immediate_ cellular change. And then, to stimulate growth, the subject will be saturated with vita-rays.” Erskine lowered the mic and went back to Steve’s side as one of the nurses injected a needle into his arm.

 

“That wasn’t so bad,” Steve winced.

 

“That was penicillin.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Dr. Erskine sighed, putting a hand on Steve’s shoulder as he gave out the commands in steps.

 

“Serum infusion in 5… 4… 3… 2…” The machine rose the large set of serum tubes, and their needles, pressing them slowly to the small male’s arms.

 

“..1.” Steve’s face contorted in pain, his eyes squeezing shut before opening wide; clearly the changes within the cells were felt as soon as it entered his system.

 

The men and women in the sky booth leaned forward in their seats; Tony furrowed his brows, hand poised on his side of the control panel.

 

“Now, Howard.” Erskine instructed, as the last of the serum was injected successfully. Howard pulled down the red lever, triggering the mechanism to close the chamber doors around Steve, tilting the chamber forward from where it had been perched horizontally. The sound of the pressurized chamber sealing tightly echoed in their ears.

 

Abraham stepped closer, giving the chamber a knock or two.

 

“Steven, can you hear me?”

 

The one glass window to the inside of the chamber was tinted; making it near impossible to see inside- not to mention Steve was tiny in there.

 

_“It’s probably too late to go to the bathroom, right?”_

If Tony could hear him he would’ve laughed his ass off.

 

Abraham shook his head, turning to the two brothers now.

 

“We will proceed.”

 

Tony removed his reading glasses, hooking them in the front pocket of his lab coat while Howard twisted the dial to activate the reactors, making the rays ready to be omitted into the chamber.

 

The two brothers slipped on pairs of goggles for safety from the bright lights that were about to go off.

 

Now that it was Tony’s turn to continue the process, he gripped both of his hands on the large black wheel that controlled the power of said vita-rays; he turned it gradually, eyes poised on the meters that showed the levels.

 

“…That’s 10%... 20%...30%...40%--“

 

Another of the scientists chipped in, monitoring Steve’s status.

 

“Vital signs are still normal!”

 

Tony huffed, turning his body to watch as the chamber began glowing brighter and brighter with each moment.

 

“—That’s 50%...60%... 70%...”

 

Then the horrific sound that most of them were dreading came through from behind the heavy metal chamber doors; Steve let out a loud noise of pain followed by several more yells.

 

Tony froze his movements completely, taking his hands of the wheel in panic as Erskine jumped onto the step outside of the chamber, banging on the enclosed structure.

 

“Steven! _Steven..!_ ”

 

“Oh my god-“ Tony wheezed, gripping a hand in his hair as everything seemed to be going haywire; even Peggy burst out of the sky booth, commanding they shut it down.

 

Tony whipped his head to his older brother, pointing to the knob to the reactors.

 

“Shut down the reactors!” Erskine yelled back to the older Stark, just as Tony was about ready to do it himself if the other didn’t; Howard took quick action.

 

But then –

 

“- _NO!_ _DON’T!”_ The strained sound of Steve’s voice screamed over everyone else’s.

 

_“I CAN DO THIS!”_

 

All of them didn’t move, eyes wide and the observers holding their breath at the scene.

 

Tony swore to himself and gripped back onto the wheel, beginning to turn it again.

 

“Tony, what’re you doing—“ Howard started, but Tony knit his brows together, swearing as he turned the wheel more and more.

 

“—It’s his decision. If he thinks he can do it then…”

 

Howard stared at Tony, but took a step back, looking back at the beaming chamber.

 

 _“You better be fine, Baby Blues—“_ Tony hissed under his breath, the levels reaching 100%.

 

Steve had stopped his yelling, but nobody knew if that was a good sign or not; a moment after the levels had jumped to their full power, a large spark came out of the control panel, and Tony flinched back from it—the entire room going off in a chain reaction of sparks before it dimmed out.

 

A few spotlights were still on, but that wasn’t the main concern of anyone.

 

“Howard,” Erskine chimed, insinuating for him to pull the lever and get the chamber open.

 

The chamber unlatched into segments; sliding open and releasing a cloud of smoke or fumes— and America’s first super soldier:

 

“Stevie Rogers…” Tony mumbled, blinking rapidly at the sight as he removed the dark goggles from his face.

 

 _The goal was for him to grow but I never thought he’d grow_ that _much._ Tony thought in disbelief. _Was that really Baby Blues?_

 

It most certainly wasn’t anybody else in that chamber, but, you couldn’t blame any of them for having to stare; Steve Rogers finally fit in those tan uniform pants that were always too big for him and… had gained quite a few pounds in pure _muscle_ along with quite a few more _inches_ — in height, of course.

 

Tony gulped, throwing his goggles onto the control panel and rushing onto the platform along with Peggy- who came down from the stairwell.

 

He was the first one to go to Steve personally, aside from Dr. Erskine, who was already standing nearby- as opposed to the array of scientists that were hugging and shaking hands in one big fuss to the side. The two of them helped Steve off of the chamber, holding on to one arm each.

 

One, very large arm each.

 

“ _I did it…”_ Steve murmured, probably still in a slight daze himself.

 

Tony almost couldn’t stop himself from staring too long at the bicep he had a hand on, but he managed to rip his eyes away, looking to Peggy who was- well- not stopping herself from staring. Averting his attention elsewhere was becoming more difficult, especially when Steve’s skin was still hot under Tony’s fingers from the vita-rays, and there was a sheen of sweat on the shirtless form.

 

Steve, on the other hand, was having a blast staring at anything that was in front of him; his eyes scanned around the room and it was amazing how much clearer, brighter, and more colorful it was. He’d never thought much about how his health had affected his eyesight or sense of color but… that was just because he never knew any better.

 

As soon as the super soldier was out of the chamber, he took a second to steady himself, chest still rising and falling a bit heavily.

 

And speaking of his chest, it was… shapely. To say the least. His pecks were almost too perfect; his whole body was so…

 

“-Tony, why don’t you let Mr. Rogers try standing on his own, yes?” Abraham broke Tony from his phase, and Tony finally took his hands off of the blonde’s arm and shoulder.

 

“Right,” Tony chirped reflexively, pushing a couple of loose strands of hair back with his fingers and flicking his eyes upward from where they had fallen to Steve’s abs, to meet his ‘enhanced’ eyes for the first time.

 

Thankfully, nothing had changed about those. They were still the same blue, and still just as full of determination and… good.

 

Steve beamed at Dr. Erskine as the man took a step back, gazing at him with nothing but pride. Then he ultimately found the other man who’d really pushed him to get here, flitting his gaze up at him with something else from pride in [his eyes](http://67.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m40zj9P71E1rvb8avo2_250.gif). When Steve focused himself on Tony, not only did he immediately notice the fact that Tony had shrunk—he was at least a good 4-5 inches taller now as opposed to how Tony used to be able to put an elbow on his shoulder like an armrest—but he really noticed why he was so grateful that the serum had enhanced his disadvantaged eyes.

 

This close he could really see how long [Tony’s eyelashes](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/9b/08/d8/9b08d8faef34bbad5857cecddfec8c97.jpg) were, and could actually tell his irises were a rich dark brown rather than the way they almost looked black from further away.

 

As soon as Tony felt those blues burning into his damn soul he went into defense mode; somehow the latter’s newly found height made him feel smaller- literally and figuratively- and he didn’t like it one bit. So he started talking again, taking advantage of the short time there was before the people started congratulating Steve himself.

 

“-It looks like I have’ta hit the gym a bit more now, with you lookin’ like that.”

 

The corner of Steve’s mouth hitched up.

 

“Lookin’ like what?” He breathed.

 

“Well, for starters, your chest is bigger than Mandy’s after the bee incident,” Tony crossed his arms, raising his eyebrows in jest.

 

“Who’s Mandy?” Steve asked, the words coming out quicker than he maybe intended.

 

“Just one of the showgirls, you don’t wanna know what happened.“ The young man rolled his eyes at the recollection, and then spun on his heel to narrow his eyes at Peggy curiously, who seemed to be struggling not to touch the specimen that was now Steve Rogers.

 

“..How do you feel?” She asked, and for once her voice didn’t hold as much fire or command as it typically did.

 

Steve turned the question over in his mind a few times, and words like grateful, solid, hot (as in the temperature, though the other meaning most definitely applied), but only one word came out of his mouth:

 

“Taller.”

 

Tony nearly killed himself from huffing out a rough laugh.

 

“You look taller,” Peggy agreed, regaining some of the sense in her.

 

“I’ll say.” Tony pursed his lips, squinting his eyes at Steve once again and forgetting momentarily how gorgeous his body looked, dialing in solely on his face, still all boyish and earnest and all, just with a stronger jawline and fuller cheeks—and a feeling of annoyance set in to push aside the feelings of awe when he realized for the second time he was _looking up at him._

 

“It’s not fair. I feel like a midget next to you now,”

 

Steve was about to say something polite about Tony’s complaint about their suddenly jarring height difference like- ‘don’t sweat it’, or ‘why does it matter?’, but the words that were hanging on the tip of his tongue were more along the lines of, _‘it’s cute’_ —if he was gonna say exactly what was on his mind. Thankfully, Tony had just snagged the white shirt from one of the nurses who had brought it over for him, and practically threw it into his chest—not giving him a moment to reply.

 

“-Anyway, the best feature about you is still your eyes,” As his voice leveled out and he kept his gaze trained on the white shirt Steve was straightening out to put on, Tony ironically stopped looking up at said eyes.

 

The super soldier pulled the clothing over his head, noting the feeling of a shirt actually fitting over his body like a glove. Even in getting a feel for the unfamiliar, Steve continued listening to Tony’s rambling.

 

“And they’d still look nicer if you smiled more.” Finishing off quoting himself from the first time he tried his hand at flirting with little Steve back at the exhibition, Tony scratched his head, taking a couple steps back to let some officials who had just come down from the sky booth to give Dr. Erskine a handshake or two. It was a well-deserved moment, and it was great to see Erskine receiving the praise he so truly earned.

 

It was also better if he stopped hogging all the platform space with his rambling ass, anyway, so Tony began stepping toward the steps of the platform, not getting the chance to see that Steve _had_ smiled, just then.

 

Only, Tony _did_ see something else, something odd just as he touched the railing—a man in a gray suit and glasses, who came down from the watch room with all the rest, slowly pulled something out of his trouser pocket.

 

A lighter, but—

 

Why did he need a lighter if he had no cigarette?

 

_No._

He put two in two together in a split second, but it was still too slow; Just as Tony was about to yell a warning to the lab around him, the suspicious man flicked open the ‘lighter’ to press the button that was underneath the lid: a bomb detonated up in the sky booth watching area, sending glass and fire flying outward from the source.

 

People screamed all around, ducking their heads and crouching their bodies to the floor. But Tony stood stunned, body only recoiling briefly the other direction as shards of glass came down from above, and his brain kept wracking itself for why the hell the man was here—his goal—and it _had_ to be the super serum.

 

There was one vial they had left unused, still in the cart.

 

Shit only kept spiraling out of control, and in the next instant, the man who’d detonated the bomb was drawing a gun. It was a small pistol, so it couldn’t have been to kill all of them but…

 

Tony’s head whirled around, eyes wide in fear.

 

The man aimed his gun at Abraham, firing off two rounds and hitting him twice in the chest.

 

_“NO...!”_

From only a few feet away, Tony saw his friend fall pitifully to the metal platform floor, blood staining his white lab coat.

 

Tony gasped, walking closer to Abraham and for a second, kneeling by his side. The blood was gathering, and Erskine’s life was already beginning to fade from his eyes… Tony’s brows furrowed and he shuddered, the hand that had begun to cling to Abraham’s shoulder loosening- eyes looking lost and afraid all at once as he recoiled from his friend- standing up.

 

He couldn’t… he couldn’t watch. It was too late.

 

Steve stood up just near them, emerging from the heap of hunched over people who were still poised in positions appropriate for a dangerous emergency like this. The first thing the soldier saw was Tony standing there, the only one standing up fully on the platform, stumbling back from where Dr. Erskine was sprawled on the floor.

 

Tony didn’t stay put long, turning his head away and shaking in a breadth of anger as he saw the gray-suited man begin his descent up the stairs to make an escape, mercilessly shooting one of the guards who burst through the laboratory door to try and help.

 

Peggy had stood her ground as well, her own gun in her hand as she landed a shot on the fleeing man’s shoulder. She ran after him. Tony took one last glance at Abraham, feeling that god-awful burning sensation building behind his eyes when he did, before he shook his head and ran after Peggy. He threw off his lab coat as he booked it up the stairs.

 

Steve managed to kneel fully at Dr. Erskine’s side just as Tony made a break for it, following after Peggy. He furrowed his brows panicked at the doctor, seeing him dying—but snapped his head up and watched as the two went after the hit-man, deep concern solidified in his chest. He couldn’t let them just go out after a mad man with a loaded gun. And Dr. Erskine he—

 

Then he felt the tap on the center of his chest.

 

Steve’s eyes dropped back down to the bleeding man.

 

Erskine didn’t have it in him to speak, but he tapped his pointer finger to the center of Steve’s chest, then pointed weakly in the direction that Tony had ran off with Peggy.

 

The simple gesture reminded Steve to keep his promise from the infirmary.

 

_‘Stay who you are. Not a perfect soldier, but a good man,’_

He glanced back up to the direction Abraham had pointed, the doctor’s hand lowered now.

 

_‘And look out for the other good men, who don’t see it in themselves.’_

The next time Steve looked back to Abraham, he was already gone.

 

…

 

Peggy had gotten a head start on Tony, so she was out of the building first. They passed a few more dead or injured guards, and the poor old woman who owned the antique shop, lying dead in the middle of the store gallery.

 

Gunfire was not stopping, and both people from their side- workers from the antique shop- and the hit-man’s side were firing at one another. The man climbed into the awaiting get-away car and the driver stepped on the gas.

 

Peggy stepped out into the middle of the street, pointing her gun straight ahead at the car as it sped away; Tony emerged from the shop, darting his attention at the car as it began making a little distance. A car that was parked between him and Peggy detonated unexpectedly, a second attempt at getting anybody off their tail- sending Tony tumbling to the sidewalk from the blast. A fragment of the car window left a small cut on his cheek.

 

Peggy stumbled slightly, but she was a bit further away and quickly re-positioned into her stance, aiming her gun forward with complete confidence; when she squeezed the trigger it was certain the driver had been hit- killed even- as the car lurched out of its straight path, hitting the tail of a yellow cab.

 

And of course, the guy who hadn’t been shot decided he wanted to get pay back for his dead get-away buddy; the bastard got out of their crashed car and stole the cab, turning the cab around and hitting the gas to come full throttle back towards Peggy Carter.

 

Too bad for him, this Agent was an expert shot –

 

Tony rubbed his head and got up from the concrete, brows pulling toward the center as he saw the car inching closer and closer; Peggy couldn’t get a hit on the man as he drove wildly.

 

Tony shot up off the ground, nearly tripped over his own feet, but tackled Peggy out of the way just in the nick of time; he could’ve sworn he felt the rush of the car whizzing past them.

 

Easing up on his weight, Tony rolled to Peggy’s side, cupping a hand over his ear as Peggy reprimanded him.

 

“I had him!”

 

“Even if you did, you would’ve gotten yourself made into a pancake, Pegs..!” Tony yelled back, ears still lightly ringing from the close explosion he’d just experienced; damn he had a headache now. His eyes stung, probably from the dust kicking up from the explosion or just…

 

“Tony, Peggy, are you alright?” Steve’s deep voice carried over to him, the tone brimming with concern, and he jumped out into the street. His feet were bare.

 

He came over to the two of them, holding a hand out for both to help them get up. Peggy took it, rising up and pulling her hair from her face. Tony’s eyes were downcast, but Steve insisted and took a small step closer to him.

 

“Tony, you hurt..?”

 

Of course he was hurt. But not just the cut on his cheek or the bruised knees he was probably gonna have from tackling Peggy.

 

The younger male shook his head, looking up at the blonde but swatting at his hand.

 

“I’m fine! Just… go show us what a super soldier can do and catch that bastard,” Tony brightened his tone to mimic his usual sarcasm, to make up for his slight outburst, even if he hadn’t felt so down in a long time. Steve’s brow creased when he noticed the blood on the latter’s cheek.

 

Steve knew that those men had definitely exploded the car just outside of the shop, and that that explosion most definitely was what caused the slice on _his friend’_ s face.

 

That bastard had only added more fuel to the flame now.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if you were caught off guard at all at Tony suddenly smoking, I incorporated the concept because smoking was a major norm back in the 40’s era, and even doctors did it and even advertised it! I simply saw it as a pastime Tony would probably participate in when he was bored or wanted to be comforted by some form of “familiarity” through the aroma. Also ** “I couldn’t just wait around while everyone else contributed” was Tony quoting one of the things Steve said the first time they met. As always, feel free to comment any questions or critiques below, or leave a kudo if you feel this story deserves it! I hope you feel the story is getting a bit better as we go. Next chapter should be posted within a week or so. Thanks for reading.


	3. Wandering Thoughts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter starts off directly from where Chapter 2 left off, but with slightly more insight from Tony’s point of view.
> 
> First off, I'd truly like to apologize for not updating for a few weeks! I experienced a brief writer's block and was also busy for the last week since my older brother was visiting, since he's in the Air Force and lives in a different state. This chapter is shorter than chapter 2 but longer than chapter 1! And also a lot more angsty than the previous posts, but hopefully you're all fine with that, given this is most definitely the slow burn, developing story that the tags promised! It also has a brief smut scene in the midst, so I suppose I shall change the rating to explicit for that reason and a few bad words. Hope you enjoy as per usual, darlings! I had intended for this chapter to be longer, but I hadn't intended it to take so long to be published, so I decided to end it at a good, climactic place and give you readers something to read while I work on chapter 4~!

 

* * *

When Steve emerged from the antique shop, and came to him and Peggy to check if they were alright, Tony didn’t really hear him. His eyes brightened, seeing Steve as the one good thing that had come from this damn project so far; only to lower his eyes again when he was reminded of what they had lost.

 

Abraham was most definitely dead by now, and Tony hadn’t even had the guts to stay with him, like he knew Erskine would’ve if their roles were reversed.

 

Tony Stark was not fine.

 

 _“-I’m fine_! Just… go show us what a super soldier can do and catch that bastard,” Tony quipped, pulling a brief smirk up at Steve as if to make his statement more potent, and apologize for smacking his hand away.

 

But as soon as Steve took off after the agent, later identified as Heinz Kruger of Hydra, the last of Tony’s façade seemed to melt away. The smirk he’d pulled at the super soldier dropped the second the blond turned to do just as he said.

 

The rush of anger he had felt at the agent after seeing Abraham on the floor, covered in his own blood, fell from his body and turned into something else completely.

 

_Why hadn’t they seen it coming?_

 

They knew of Johann’s hell-bent obsession on giving himself ultimate power- to become the superior man- so how could they have expected Schmidt not to try to steal the serum… the finished formula- in any means possible? They had underestimated the force that they had been briefed about countless times.

 

Tony got himself up off the cement of the street, Peggy looking at him with worried eyes.

 

Touching a couple fingers to his cut cheek, dabbing the blood, Tony held it in front of his face to grasp the extent of the wound. The red was thick but it wasn’t much.

 

And for just a moment he wondered- staring at that smear of his own blood- what would have happened if _he’d taken action_ just a moment sooner to save his dear friend, Abraham Erskine, who would never get to hear him play those new piano pieces.

 

…

…

…

 

Steve Rogers had chased Heinz Kruger half way through Brooklyn, only to fail in getting any valuable information out of him before the agent committed a suicide by means of a fake tooth that induced an incredibly fast acting cyanide poison. Even more unfortunate was the fact the last vial of the super serum shattered when Kruger dropped it.

 

Luckily, the agents that had been part of the project went after Steve soon after the chase, and they were able to recover an autonomous underwater vehicle that Steve had stopped Kruger from escaping in. It was in this they hoped they’d be able to find more.

 

But aside from stopping the man from escaping with the last vial of super serum, though the vial was indeed lost, Steve had inadvertently landed his picture on the front page of the next day’s newspaper. Media men certainly acted fast.

 

Steve didn’t care about that. Not at all, really.

 

Abraham was the one meant to be in the next day newspaper; because he had done what he had aimed to do… only there only resulted one super soldier, and he didn’t even get the chance to see him do anything.

 

Now it was already the next afternoon following the incident, and Steve was moved into one of the other underground facilities in order for them to draw some of his blood.

 

And they sure were drawing a lot of blood. They’d already taken several samples, but there was still another needle in his arm.

 

“I think you got enough,” he said half-heartedly, and the nurse nodded, taking away the last sample they were planning on taking anyway.

 

Peggy was in the room with him, since everyone else was downstairs discussing what happened and/or examining the underwater vehicle that they had recovered from Kruger.

 

“Any hope of reproducing a program is locked in your genetic code.” She leaned off the metal table in front of him, her arms still loosely crossed.

 

“But without Dr. Erskine it will take years.”

 

“He deserved more than this.”

 

Peggy cast her eyes at Steve as he stood up and unrolled his sleeve. The blond stepped forward to stand next to her, his gaze eventually traveling down through the glass window to see Tony climbing back into the AUV (Autonomous Underwater Vehicle), face contorted into stiff focus.

 

“If it could work only once, he’d be proud it was you.” Peggy consoled.

 

Glancing at her before looking back through the glass, the man sighed. He truly hoped that was true; and even if it was, he felt guilty that he was the sole result of such a project that Abraham had seemingly worked most of his life to make happen for the sake of peace. And the first thing that happened in carrying out the project had been more violence.

 

“How’s Tony handling it?” Rogers could only imagine what Tony had to be feeling… the two geniuses were undoubtedly close, and Tony had watched him get shot.

 

Yesterday, the younger Stark brother had left _as soon_ as they gave the green light; they had said it would take the rest of the day to recover the AUV from the water, since they had to wait until it got dark to safely transport the mechanism to the SSR laboratory. He had refused to re-enter the lab or to see Abraham’s body.

 

Peggy’s eyes flickered down at where Tony was, and from where they were standing she could tell he was cursing to himself, given the fact Howard turned around as soon as he saw Tony sit back roughly in the seat of the AUV, clutching his hands in his hair.

 

“He’s… coping in his way.” Her lips formed a straight line as she brushed some of her hair behind her ear and looked back at her feet.

 

“I called the household last night to check on Tony after everyone went home. I know how he can be,” She paused, and Steve’s brow furrowed. He hadn’t an idea what she was talking about, but the way she said it made him feel uneasy for the man. It was especially disquieting since he’d never seen the younger male express himself in any way that wasn’t positive, witty, or charming.

 

“Howard told me that Tony just stayed up all night… drinking by his piano.” She was frowning, recollecting what the older Stark had reported. He had said more details of what Tony had rambled on about in his drunkenness, but she decided it best not to say.

 

There was nothing Steve could think to say to that. All he knew was he wished he could help Tony get past this, if he could help at all. The younger male had already done so much for him.

 

The two of them started walking down from the upstairs infirmary silently, nearing the bottom where the AUV was, just as Colonel Phillips came in from the next room discussing the new circumstances to Senator Brandt and his aid.

 

Howard leaned against the side of the machine, smacking his brother on the side of his arm as a tiny spark came off of the control board in the pilot seat of the thing. Tony flinched back where he sat and scowled.

 

“Let up, Tone. Take a breather.” Howard mumbled, looking slightly exasperated himself.

 

“-What do we got here?” Colonel Phillips asked, stopping in his tracks to face both of the engineers.

 

“…Speaking modestly, you’re looking at two of the best mechanical engineers in this country.” Howard spoke first.

 

Tony climbed out from the AUV, rubbing the back of his hand over his eyes. If one looked closer they would notice the dark rings that had formed beneath said eyes.

 

“We don’t know what’s in this thing, or how it works.” Howard continued, until Tony cut in with a dull voice.

 

“-We’re not even _close_ to this technology.”

 

The senator knit his brows together, trying to interrogate them further.

 

“Then who is?”

 

“Hydra,” Colonel answered, now speaking back to the senator.

 

“I’m sure you’ve been reading in on our briefings.”

 

“I am on a number of committees, Colonel.”

 

The two higher officials gave one another a hard stare, and Peggy stepped over to them, open to explaining further.

 

“Hydra is the Nazi deep science division. It's led by Johann Schmidt. But he has much bigger ambitions.”

 

Colonel Phillip agreed, and carried on for her.

 

“Hydra's practically a cult. They worship Schmidt, they think he's invincible.”

 

“So what are you gonna do about it?” The senator shot back, not feeling patient to sit through any more explanations when there were serious problems going on as they spoke.

 

“Spoke to the president this morning.” Phillips straightened up, eyes addressing all those present, apart from Steve.

 

“As of today the SSR is being retasked. We are taking the fight to Hydra.”

 

Tony’s head perked up from where he had it pressed against the cold metal of the AUV at the mention.

 

The colonel continued, solid in his instructions.

 

“Agent Carter, pack your bags. And you two,” he pointed at the brothers.

 

“You’re all flying to London tonight.”

 

They nodded. No objections.

 

At that Colonel Phillips seemed done with all he needed to say, beginning to saunter right past Steve, who was not willing to stand docile.

 

 _“Sir,_ if you’re going after Schmidt, I want in.” Steve supplied, facing his superior.

 

Phillips stopped, but didn’t seem keen on stopping long.

 

“You’re an experiment. _You’re_ going to Alamogordo.”

 

Steve tensed.

 

“The serum worked.”

 

“-I asked for an army and all I got was you.”

 

He took another step toward the door and made eye contact with the blond.

 

“ _You_ are not enough.”

 

And he left.

 

Steve’s eyes dropped, and he let out the tiniest of sighs. It wasn’t as though he’d never heard that before, but now, it only hit harder. Because now he knew there was more he could do- more he needed to do. He had been the only thing to come from Project Rebirth and now he had to live with that responsibility on his shoulders.

 

Peggy was about to touch his shoulder from where she had had to watch that brutal denial, but was interrupted when the senator came up to him, removing his fedora.

 

“With all due respect to the Colonel, I think we’re onto something here.”

 

Steve furrowed his brows, raising his eyes to the man.

 

“Sir?”

 

“I’ve seen you in action, Steve. More importantly, the entire country’s seen you.”

 

His aid came up with a newspaper at hand, spreading the paper to show off the full cover print. Surely enough, it showed his face along with a detailed description of his grand display of ‘heroism’ just yesterday. The senator tapped the page once.

 

“The enlistment lines have been around the block since your picture hit the newsstands. You don’t take a soldier, a symbol like that- and hide him in a lab.”

 

Steve felt his spirits lift at the mention of more men enlisting, even if they were just slightly influenced by him; it was hard to believe.

 

“Son, do you want to serve your country on the most important battle field of the war?”

 

Steve’s eyes glinted with a semblance of hope.

 

“Sir, that’s all I want.”

 

The senator cocked his head to the side, giving Steve a good pat on the arm. He smirked with plans in his mind, plans that Steve honestly had no idea about.

 

If he did who knows if he would’ve said yes.

 

“Then congratulations, you just got promoted.”

 

The two shook hands, and a twinge of a smile graced the blonde’s face; poor, unknowing Rogers. But still, it was nice to see an ounce of happiness cross his face, in the aftermath of tragedy, even if it was only for now.

 

The senator replaced his hat onto his head before walking away, gesturing to his aid and preparing to get all the necessary things ready for Roger’s ‘promotion.’

 

A few footsteps were heard from the metal steps that led up from the slight dip from which the AUV was stationed in the facility.

 

Tony came closer to Steve and Peggy, scratching his cheek as he flitted his brown eyes in the direction the senator had left, with little interest where the man cared to be going.

 

“What did Mr. Senator offer ya, Stevie?”

 

“A promotion.” He turned to run his eyes over Tony’s current state, which seemed to be visibly tired, though the new expression on the younger’s actions begged to differ. Tony had his posture straight, confident but laid-back as per usual, and his eyes were always alert… but the dark rims under his eyes were just another stark contrast that Steve found incredibly hard to decipher. He could see them even behind the slight glare of the latter’s glasses. [His hair](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/dd/45/1c/dd451c61657d32ec14921eac2f6bba9c.jpg) was also less immaculate than its typical partially or fully slicked back look today, though the soft, loose locks suited him just as well- maybe better, to some people.

 

He also noticed Tony had a bandage on his right cheek, just where his cut had been. Remembering the blood that has stained his friend’s face made him frown internally.

 

“-A promotion? That’s pretty vague. But, better than just going to Alamogordo, I bet.” Rolling his eyes, Tony folded the coat he was holding over his arm, biting back a yawn.

 

“Let’s hope so.”

 

Steve continued looking down at Tony, not getting over the fact that he had come back into work and was now about to be shipped out to London, after he apparently stayed up all night with a drink at hand. He hadn’t even the time to mourn his friend.

 

But Tony had a smile back on his face, eyebrows up.

 

“Well, good luck to you then, Baby Blues. We might not be seeing each other for awhile.”

 

Steve managed to pull a smile in return, though it was a bit less convincing than the latter’s.

 

“You too, Tony. Take care of yourself.”

 

Tony’s eyes clashed with his again, and there was a look in them that said he was tired of hearing people say that to him. It wasn’t any bad blood against Steve for caring, but Tony was just… done with people trying to baby him. Abraham always tried.

 

“I always do.” And he just shrugged and ripped his attention from Steve, interrupting anything else he might’ve wanted to ask him before they all parted ways – and Steve had plenty he wanted to say- and looked back to Peggy.

 

“Looks like you’re gonna be stuck with me a bit longer, huh, Pegs? Sorry.”

 

The woman furrowed her brows, putting a hand on her hip.

 

“You don’t need to keep apologizing unless you do something stupid.”

 

Tony huffed out an amused breath, spinning around and beginning to walk toward the exit himself.

 

“Why do you think I said sorry? I’m always doing something stupid.”

 

And his tone dropped from its snarky high to a more grounded, but boastful one as he came to the end of his sentence, at which point his back was to all of them.

 

Dick move, he was aware it was.

 

Upon reaching the doorway, he placed a hand on it, throwing a glimpse over his shoulder.

 

“Oh, and Stevie,”

 

He purposely scanned his brown eyes down and back up the said man’s figure. Steve blinked at the odd feeling that nonchalant look-over gave him.

 

“You’re plenty _enough_ , don’t listen to what Ol’ Man Phillips said. I’m sure you’ll attract plenty of pretty ladies with your new reputation as the ‘Mystery Man’ in the paper.” Tony made it apparent he had been able to overhear some of their passing exchange, but took the interpretation in a far, less serious direction.

 

Steve hardly held back a blush at the suddenness of Tony’s suggestive nature.

 

“…Or men, if you swing that way.” Tony’s voice lowered, like he was telling a secret, even if nobody else in the lab was likely paying attention to him.

 

Steve was certain he felt his cheeks flush slightly, and he coughed into his hand, unsure of what he was supposed to say. He found himself briefly wondering if Tony somehow knew he was… well… attracted to men _and_ women, or if he was simply being generous. Teasing. And of course he was teasing, but Steve never discussed his sexuality- since it didn’t quite have a name yet- with anybody apart from Bucky; and that was only because Bucky had admitted his openness to both genders to Steve first, after he had apparently seen an especially good-looking lad down by the marketplace.

 

But was it the implication of sexuality or the fact that it was coming from _Tony_ , that made him blush?

 

Peggy suppressed a long, suffering sigh from escaping at the whole scene, only seeing Tony’s smug face from where she was behind Steve; Tony never missed the chance to flirt or talk about private affairs, did he.

 

Shrugging, the brunette male grinned fleetingly, finishing off his last comment.

 

“Either way, I know _I’ll_ be happy to make the best of my trip to London. It’s not often I get to get _acquainted_ with lookers outside of the states. And those are always fun.”

 

The flush on Steve’s cheeks lessened, the thought of Tony getting acquainted with strangers seeming… bothersome. He hadn’t had time to think about his flirtatious ways much in the past few weeks.

 

Speaking of ‘lookers’ from outside the states, Peggy’s accent cut through the conversation, growing tired of Tony’s insistence in getting under her (or Steve’s) skin. Now was not the time.

 

“You do realize we are all leaving on business, Tony.”

 

“I’ll do all sorts of _business_. I know how to make time for myself to do things I like to do, simply because I like doing them.”

 

He wet his lips and switched the coat he was holding to his other arm, leaning off the doorway.

 

“It’s a good thing you aren’t jealous of me meeting new people, Pegs. You should try it for yourself sometime.” He recommended, feigning a light-hearted tone even when Peggy was not at all amused at his current demeanor, no matter the cause behind it.

 

Again, Steve creased a brow, gears turning over in his mind trying to figure out the sort of relationship these two had. They knew each other. They cared. Yet there was sometimes this sort of maliciousness between them, like now.

 

Now was not the time.

 

Carter had nothing else to say, nor did the Stark. And Rogers was left to peer after the, now shorter, man as he saluted and dismissed himself.

 

…

 

Tony left the room, not waiting up for his older brother, who was likely trailing after him.

 

God, he hated himself.

 

Why did he do that?

 

He had to.

 

Steve kept looking at him like… that. Like he was trying to see right through him or something. Did he realize how rude it was to stare like that?

 

When Tony had walked up to them after the senator left he immediately regretted not just leaving without a word. But doing that would’ve only made one of them try to talk to him anyway, to ask him how he was ‘feeling’, he knew it.

 

Steve had turned to him and raked his eyes over his face, eyes dialing in on his bandaged cheek for a moment and probably noticing the darkness beneath his eyes, given how he shamelessly stared at him with the blue eyes that could _not_ hide their concern. Tony was forced to roll his eyes to break from that gaze, and he touched his tongue to roof of his mouth to stop the yawn from coming, since that would only confirm the fact he was exhausted from not sleeping a wink last night.

 

_‘Take care of yourself.’_

That was something he heard too much for his liking. He convinced himself that he knew how to take care of himself, and always did.

 

So that’s what he said.

 

But nothing he was saying was getting Steve or Peggy to stop giving him those damn looks. So he decided to get them off his back… the best way to do that was to distract them, annoy them, or both.

 

The way to hit two birds with one stone was to do what he did best, and that was talking about sexual subjects- brag about it and encourage it- so he’d divert the soldier’s mind to people aside from him and simply tick off the agent.

 

_‘…Or men, if you swing that way.’_

 

And if he was lucky Steve would be fed up with his flirting, though he doubted it- since he hadn’t spat at him the first time he’d tried, and Steve was almost too kind to seem capable of hate.

 

Then he’d noticed the slight pinkish hue grace Steve’s cheeks. Why was he _blushing_? Was he that easily flustered? The sight caught the inventor off guard for a moment, but he’d quickly recovered and began to ramble about his plans to fool around with basically- any and all people he wanted to.

 

It sickened him to bring it up again, rubbing salt into the wound he’d already created with Peggy long ago, when they could have been something more than friends. But again, he decided it was better to make her feel _he didn’t deserve_ her comfort, since he had done enough to hurt her and others in the past. So he got her mad.

 

_‘I know how to make time for myself to do things I like to do, simply because I like doing them.’_

God, saying that made him absolutely nauseous. Quoting Abraham’s advice to him and absolutely soiling the good meaning that was originally behind it.

 

The one thing that kept him going was the thought that maybe, just maybe, pushing everyone away would keep them from getting caught in the crossfire of the next stupid thing he was sure to do. If they didn’t _want_ to deal with his bullshit, it’d be easier for everyone.

 

…

…

…

 

Steve never thought once that his “promotion” meant wearing patriotic spandex, gloves, boots, and a mask embellishing the already All-American look. Not once.

 

Crazy how he didn’t picture this, huh?

 

Even crazier was the fact that he was supposed to step out on stage in less than a minute.

 

Senator Brandt had told him this was all to sell bonds for the war effort but… Steve had his reasons to have reservations about the idea.

 

Doing anything that could help was better than being stuck in the lab, yes, but –

 

He took another look at himself in the mirror backstage, gulping harder when he held up the mask in his red-gloved hands.

 

The senator’s aide that was back stage with him put a hand on his shoulder, shaking him slightly as if to help ward off the nerves. It wasn’t working, but it wasn’t like he could turn back now; if he was brave enough to be part of Project Rebirth, he was brave enough to give a little presentation to a little crowd, right?

 

Sure.

 

“I don’t know if I can do this.”

 

Steve was nearly shaking.

 

“Hey, listen. Nothing to it. Sell off a few bonds, bonds buy bullets, bullets kills Nazi's. Bing bang boom. You're an American hero.” The aide said casually, shrugging.

 

It didn’t help much.

 

“It’s just not how I pictured getting there,”

 

“The senator's got a lot of pull up on the hill. You play ball with us, you'll be leading your own platoon in no time,” The other said, not giving a damn if Rogers was nervous or unprepared. He had notecards taped to the back of the shield, anyway.

 

“Take the shield.”

 

Shoving the shield into Steve’s hand, the aide gave him one good push toward the red curtains to send him stumbling out onto the stage.

 

Okay so…

 

Not such a small crowd.

 

Steve’s eyes swept out over the sea of people that were already gathered there and felt his nervousness rise. The red, white, and blue showgirls were confident enough, thankfully, singing their part in practiced synchronicity, and he tried to let their confidence kick him into gear –

 

 _♫_ _‘Who’s strong and brave here to save the American way?’_ _♫_

Glancing down at the notes behind his shield, attempting not to be too obvious about it, but likely failing, Steve spoke loud and clear.

 

"Not all of us can storm a beach, or drive a tank. But there's still a way all of us can fight."

 

At least after he read it off he made eye contact with the crowd.

 

As the showgirls went on with their next part, Steve wracked his brain for something to ease his nerves—how did people make this look so easy? With all those eyes staring up at you? Not to mention it was only recently anybody had to look up at him at all… considering his former stature.

 

 _♫_ _‘'Who vows to fight like a man for what’s right night and day?'_ _♫_

“Defense bonds; each one you buy is a bullet in the barrel of your best guy's gun."

 

Again he looked up from the shield at the crowd, trying his very best not to show his jitters. How did Tony manage to make eye contact with so many people and not break a sweat?

 

Steve twitched slightly, recalling when Tony had winked at him.

 

That tiny thing aside- maybe if he… tried to just relax his shoulders, walk a little more confidently like that, this wouldn’t be so nerve wracking. No winking at people, of course, but…

 

 _♫_ _'Who will campaign door-to-door for America? Carry the flag shore to shore for America?'_ _♫_

 

It didn’t have to be nerve wracking.

 

 _♫_ _'From Hoboken to Spokane! The Star Spangled Man with a Plan!'_ _♫_

Steve’s shoulders finally eased up as he crossed the stage to allow the showgirls to move into the next routine position, continuing their singing smoothly. He glanced over everyone in the crowd once again, and this time caught the gleaming eyes of a few young kids sitting toward the front of the crowd.

 

Seeing that reminded him of what this could mean for people. The glimmer of hope restored in even one person’s eyes made him feel like he… had fulfilled part of his purpose. Perhaps wearing an outfit like this wasn’t so ridiculous if it meant giving a generation hope against the odds of war.

 

…

…

…

 

On the other side of the spectrum, in terms of the war effort, there was Tony.

 

Howard, Tony, and Peggy- as promised- were shipped off to London the day after Colonel Phillips had informed them. They had an allied base there, and it was where the brothers were working on creating more weaponry for the fight against Hydra, along with the occasional effort in trying to crack whatever coding was locked in the high-tech AUV they’d brought with them.

 

Thus far, still, no luck in that.

 

But that didn’t mean Tony wasn’t getting lucky in other fields.

 

There were some new editions to their team upon arriving at the London base a few days ago, including [one rather handsome cytologist ](http://www.auditionsfree.com/content/user/2015/05/armie-hammer.jpg)with nice light brown hair, grey-blue eyes, and the slightest shadow of scruff dotting the surface of his jawline. He was only a few years older than him, just about a year younger than Howard. From what he’d heard from their first day briefing, his name was Armie Hawkins.

 

Tony tended to take extra notice of small features on attractive faces when in the face of a predicament he’d rather _not_ pay close attention to.

 

And at the moment he was not keen on sticking around the AUV much longer, since all they’d managed to do all day was discover a secret panel that led to more internal control panels and wires. They’d toggled with it and tried applying it to the same principles that worked in their own vehicles but none of it made any kind of sense.

 

His entire career he’d been praised over his superior intelligence and ability to create new things, but with this, well… it was an innovation and it made him feel inferior in every single way.

 

Sure, they were helping plenty by supplying the SSR with a set of new and improved aircrafts- which was what he was working on now- but it on the flipside, spirits were hard to keep up when both he and his brother were failing at harvesting any type of intel on the location of Hydra’s main bases from an entire damn underwater machine made directly _by_ Hydra.

 

Having weapons to fight an enemy were no good unless you knew where the enemy was in the first place, or how much they knew about your cause. Because at the moment, it seemed Hydra knew much more on them than they knew in return, if a spy could so easily sneak into their “secured” Project Rebirth with intent on hijacking the super serum.

 

So yeah… a cute cellular-scientist seemed like a good enough distraction for tonight, and the work day was nearly over. Luckily, many of the members of the team had already left, and the ones still present were cleaning up files or work and hanging up lab coats, if they had them. Half of the large building was already dimmed as well.

 

Even more convenient was the fact Hawkins seemed just as interested. He knew because the cytologist had been throwing him small smiles whenever they crossed paths in the laboratory space, even though they did have separate sections for their differing assignments.

 

But then again, who wasn’t interested him?

 

“So how’s the new model coming along?” A friendly English accent met Tony’s ears as he straightened up from where he’d been crouched by the deconstructed rudder of the nearly finished fighter planes he’d dedicated himself to today.

 

“A bit better now that you’re here to breathe down my neck, Mr. Hawkins.” Tony quipped smoothly, half-way teasing and half-way flirting while unrolling his oil-dirtied shirtsleeves to turn his head around at the very man he’d just been mentally ogling over. Armie had his hands crossed behind his back, and the inventor noticed he had already removed his lab coat- appropriately so, given the late hour.

 

Chuckling slightly at Tony’s response, he took a tiny step back from where he had curiously been peeking over the younger male’s shoulder.

 

“Apologies, Mr. Stark, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I was just about to leave for tonight and noticed how you didn’t seem too keen on packing up for the night quite yet.” Tony let that ‘Mr. Stark’ slide simply because he knew the latter only used it because he had called him ‘Mr. Hawkins’ first; it wasn’t condescending or belittling how he used it anyway.

 

That’s funny.

 

“Oh yeah? Well I guess you aren’t as intuitive as you look then, because I was planning on booking it out of here as soon as I finished the loose piece for this plane’s rudder.” Tony pulled a hand through his dark hair to shift the loose hairs relatively back where they were supposed to be. He made sure to keep his “heart-throb” eyes up at the taller man all the while, too; all his showgirls had always reminded him how jealous they were over his accentuating eyelashes.

 

The other man flashed [a white-toothed grin](http://images-cdn.moviepilot.com/image/upload/c_scale,h_411,w_594/t_mp_quality/armie-hammer-j-edgar-world-premiere-75s82xx_6rll-actors-who-could-definitely-be-real-life-disney-princes-jpeg-125417.jpg).

 

“Perhaps I should go back to school and study psychology then?”

 

Tony met him back with a cocky little smirk of his own, the corner of his eye crinkling slightly as he pushed up his glasses.

 

“If you get any smarter and stay as handsome as you are you’re never going to find anybody to match your excellence, _sir_.”

 

Hawkins rose a brow and tilted his head, grin falling into a nonchalant smile.

 

“Mm. I know a person who might be able to match both of those things. But I’d appreciate it if _he_ didn’t call me sir, it makes me feel old.”

 

Tony wet his lips and snorted a small laugh, peeking over the rims of his dark glasses up at him; the man was even taller than Stevie- and that was quite tall in the grand scheme of men who’d ever entered his life. He liked men he flirted with to be taller than him and all but… what had actually bothered him with Baby Blues was the fact that he _used_ to be taller, sort of felt like a protector for once (even if Steve insisted he needed no protection, and he respected that about him), then boom- Steve Rogers was a giant with sculpted muscles everywhere….

 

 _“He_ can do that. But it does look like you do need a confidence boost if that small of a detail bothers you,” Tony’s lips continued to be relentless in holding a bold smirk, even as his mind wandered. Perhaps he, himself, needed a confidence boost if the small detail of Steve gaining a few inches of height on him made him feel slightly inferior.

 

“Maybe I could help you gain a little confidence.” Tony finished, eyes flirting up a storm.

 

“Maybe. And I could help get you a bit cleaned up, yeah? Back at my apartment?”

 

Tony appreciated this man’s smooth talking; it was refreshing to meet someone _almost_ as good as him at running off at the mouth and practically dragging people into the bedroom with eyes and words alone.

 

“You could help me get cleaned up, sure. But,”

 

He took a small step forward, though there was still a publically acceptable space between the two gentlemen. Armie’s eyes traveled slowly with him, pale blue glimmering with something aside from polite curiosity now.

 

“I think we both know you’d rather get a little dirty yourself, instead.”

 

"So you're the intuitive one, Mr. Stark." The other practically purred, his already deeper voice matching his confident expression.

 

"Just Tony, if you like."

 

The inventor threw a look over his shoulder at Howard who was pretending not to know what was going on over there. He was already putting away his own tools, so he was about ready to leave as well.

 

"I'll see you tomorrow, Howie. Don't wait up."

 

"I never do with you." Howard called back, throwing his jacket over his shoulder.

 

At that Tony turned back to his current engagement, glancing around the base one last time.

 

"Armie, then. For tonight." The cytologist finally corrected, once they were left alone.

 

"Armie. Feels good on the tongue to say that."

 

And so they left for some late night distractions.

 

After all, Tony said it once before: he only kept busy late at night when he _didn't_ want to think. And this was one of those glorious nights.

 

...

...

...

 

Things only seemed to escalate more quickly for Steve as time passed. Each day felt more like a week, and it seemed as though every moment another person was added to the following of “The Star Spangled Man,” more commonly known as “Captain America.”

 

Following the show presentations, which he no longer needed to use notecards for after doing it a few days straight, Steve participated in meet-and-greets for fans. Men, women, and especially the children came to take pictures or get autographs, and occasionally the senator himself would come to him and give him a handshake for the media to put in the papers.

 

By the end of the month Senator Brandt had even told him that he was to begin acting in a short film for the movie theatre, featuring him leading his own brigade into the battlefield to motivate even more young men to join the war. It was exciting, in a way, but it also reminded him that this whole show was fiction.

 

He didn’t know when he’d actually be leading his own brigade of men into an actual fight, but again; at least he wasn’t stuck being a lab rat.

 

Instead he was being paraded around more like a performing monkey, reenacting the same thing every night, in front of hundreds of people, yet still he wasn’t a part of the actual fight like he had imagined.

 

He reminded himself of that fact at the end of his 10th performance. At least he’d been able to fake punch ‘Hitler’ across the jaw each of those ten performances, so that was something. Waiting backstage, Steve looked down at the palm of his gloved hand.

 

“I wonder how the others are doing.” He muttered, recalling the red car that Tony was always being driven around in as he stared at said glove. Tony and Peggy had both been flown to a location far from his own, and it was oddly nostalgic to the feeling he had when Bucky left for the real army. He knew where they were, but he hadn’t a clue what they were actually doing now, but it was likely much more important than reciting scripted lines and air-punching an actor every night.

 

…

…

…

 

It was only the first week and a half in London and Tony had already had sex with a couple of the nurses from the lab, and found himself with his current, favorite cytologist more than a couple nights.

 

That was, until Tony made the incredibly stupid mistake of letting his mind actually think about the world outside of the bedroom while he was having a bit of fun with Armie Hawkins.

 

Tony was straddled on the taller male's waist, both of them stripped down to just their trousers.

 

He rolled his hips slowly, pressing down closer as he shifted to his elbows, propping them on either side of the other's head.

 

"You're more excited than usual."

 

"Because I know how amazing you feel," Armie murmured, breath coming out in soft bursts as quiet moans floated into the air from the both of them.

 

The two of their manhoods pressed together firmly, the fabric of their underwear and pants adding friction along with the thrill of anticipation to take them off. They'd both intuitively come to like keeping their pants on until both of them couldn't handle the strain.

 

That was the other good thing about the other man: he had patience, and the only thing Tony liked more than teasing others was teasing himself— not giving in to what he knew he wanted right away just to make getting it feel that much better.

 

Tony's lashes grazed Armie's sharp jawline as he dipped into the crook of his neck, pecking kisses down the skin with soft lips.

 

At the moment, all that concerned him was the body against his.

 

"Tony..." Armie breathed, voice low as his large hands slid down the younger man's sides feverishly. That deep voice of his resonated by his ear, and he whined quietly against Armie’s neck, knowing how the subtle noises he made always got under his partner’s skin.

 

Smirking to himself, he licked a streak up the other male's neck to his jaw, rolling his hips one last time before he sat up onto his calves.

 

"Pants off?"

 

"Mm." Armie hummed, already unbuttoning Tony's trousers.

 

Soon enough they were both down to nothing, and Tony wasn't one to waist time pressing their aching manhoods together with his hand, giving them a few good strokes simultaneously.

 

Armie groaned, shifting slightly from where he laid beneath the shorter male's weight. He sat up more, his bare back leaning against the bed frame, Tony still on his lap stroking them together. Armie raised of his hands to tangle in the back of Tony's brunette hair.

 

There were no words passed between them, that wasn't necessary. Oddly enough, after only a few nights together they had figured out their rhythm, both men’s experience showing through clearly. Their breaths and soft moans faded in the shared air between them, and Armie slowly pulled Tony's head closer. Tony raised his eyes just as slow, eyes still half-lidded as he raked his gaze over the latter's handsome face.

 

He didn't fully register their closeness until their noses barely touched, and he felt warm breaths tickle his own wet lips. Both their eyes were open, and just then Tony found himself lost in the moment of pleasure and intimacy he typically didn't allow his nighttime partners to reach.

 

Their clashing eye colors met, and Tony stared into them deeply, even the amazing feeling of stroking them in tandem fading slightly as he got lost in that sea of blue.

 

He had beautiful eyes.

 

Tony moaned longingly as he rubbed his thumb over their tips, smearing the precum.

 

The blue was less grey-ish up this close, not to mention it was slightly glazed over with lust...

 

Actually they didn't look grey at all now.

 

Perhaps he just had a soft spot for blue eyes...

 

_"Baby blues..."_

 

Armie's lips just barely grazed his own, about to capture them in an actual kiss — when Tony abruptly pulled back, the other's hand sliding down to his shoulder in surprise. No kisses. Too intimate.

 

"Tony?"

 

Tony fluttered his lashes, eyes darting to the side and staring blankly for a second.

 

What... What did he just say?

 

Whatever the hell he said, it wasn't — it wasn't referring to America's new super soldier — no, no it was just a vocalization of Armie's eye color, that's it.

 

Armie tilted his head, curiously twirling a short strand of Tony's hair.

 

"Did you want to... stop?" The cytologist was clearly still aroused, yet somehow he managed to make his voice clear and unperturbed. He seemed slightly disappointed under it all, but still willing to stop if the other wanted; he wasn't an animal.

 

But Tony shook his head, smirking sharply; now the guy was going to be all considerate and nice? He felt sick.

 

"No... the- the opposite actually. We already dragged this out too long, Mr. Hawkins... how about we get down to the real dirty stuff,"

 

Tony was already thinking way more than he should have.

 

Catching Armie by surprise, Tony lifted his hips, adjusting his position and lined himself up with the head of the other's erection, the precum that had formed there being the only sort of lubrication. Armie blushed hotly, feeling Tony begin pressing down, taking him in inch by inch.

 

Pain from not prepping himself shot up his spine, but he didn't stop himself from taking as much as he could, the action ripping a clipped, shuddering moan from him. He steadied his breathing as much as was manageable, eyes slipping shut.

 

Armie was shocked at first, but quickly replaced shock with pure, unadulterated pleasure. He'd never done it like this, and the sudden tightness made him shudder, leaning his head back into the bed frame.

 

"T..Tony,"

 

Even hearing his first name made the younger male slightly uncomfortable now; but moving his hips erased any sense of comprehensibility — he just needed this to be a distraction like any other time he did this; and he did this often— but he'd never felt so out of his game.

 

At least the other didn't seem to notice much.

 

"Ah... are you okay?"

 

Or not.

 

Tony's eyes snapped up to— foolishly— meet Armie's again, and this time there was concern mixed into that deep blue color, and seeing it was killing him inside. His mind flashed back to when he was on the street with Peggy, when Stev—

 

Shit.

 

The inventor blinked and twined his fingers into his current partner's light brown hair, eyes trained on the latter's lips rather than anything above that. Kisses had never appealed to him anyway.

 

"Stop talking. Don't think, just...move, please," Tony panted, slinking his arms around Armie's shoulders, grinding his hips back down harder now, urging him to help the pace.

 

He wasn't sure whether he was speaking more to Armie or himself; either way, he needed release from the outside world; in more ways than one… and the strong pair of hands on his hips and the teeth and tongue on his neck were everything he could have to reach that release.

 

...

...

...

 

Buffalo, Milwaukee, Philadelphia…

 

An entire month had now passed, and Steve had been adding more big cities to the list of locations he’d visited to recruit more eligible men for war. Yes, the performances had become rather robotic – in his mind at least- but the crowds only seemed to grow; and given how relatively large they had started out, it was always mind-boggling to see more people show up.

 

Not to mention they’d just released the first issue of comic books to the public just a day or so ago; that was surreal. He was a real person, not just some made up character- and they were actually publishing comics detailing his adventures for America for the kids.

 

He wished the adventures he was experiencing in real life were more accurate to those images- but nonetheless, it put smiles on readers’ faces. It was a good change up from playing stickball in the streets, if anything.

 

But as it turned out, not only little kids were becoming major fans of the Captain- women were too.

 

As was apparent when he came down the steps from the stage where people came to for autographs and pictures; a beautiful blond woman came shuffling up to him, holding a pen and a pamphlet from the night’s show. Her smile was beaming, and her eyes were on his completely.

 

“Hi,” she breathed dreamily, gently handing over the pen and paper for him to sign; a tiny blush was on her cheeks.

 

Steve gulped, caught off guard by the sudden change from the typical, over-excitement coming from children, rather than a woman who was actually his age. It was basically the first time a woman had ever looked at him with eyes like that, all flustered and all, even though she was a stranger.

 

Hell, before the serum and the costume, no woman he found attractive even spared him a glance- he was invisible. And men only looked at him from across the room or street with their fingers pointed, making fun of his frail body.

 

There _was_ a reason he’d been so defensive when Tony had openly started ‘flirting’ with him that first night; before then nobody had ever spoken to him like that, so one couldn’t blame him for thinking Tony- a handsome, confident young genius- was making fun of him. Of course, in reality, that hadn’t been the case.

 

“H-Hello.” Steve slightly stammered, finally pulling himself together and scribbling down his signature.

 

When he handed her back the pamphlet she nearly burst with joy, and she clutched it to her chest.

 

She sure was happy…

 

“Thank you,”

 

…and she sure was pretty- she had _dark brown eyes and long lashes_ , just like Ton-

 

"Thank you _so_ much— for what you're doing. You made my brother smile, and he hasn't done much of it since he got sick and wasn't able to enlist. You're an inspiration, Captain."

 

Steve's eyes widened at the thought he was about to have, coming back to his senses at the words this woman had just spoken. He shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck nervously; he would’ve been sweating, if not for the serum keeping him a little more in check with perspiration than normal.

 

But he smiled earnestly, eyes brightening when his mind processed the context of what the blond woman had told him.

 

"I understand how he must be feeling. Tell him Cap’s rooting for his recovery.”

 

The woman giggled, wetting her lips.

 

“I will. And,”

 

She suddenly went on her tip-toes and gave him a small peck on the cheek.

 

“You put a smile on my face too.”

 

She pulled back in a moment’s notice, brushing her hair behind her ear; Steve hadn’t fully processed that a pair of lips had just pressed against his cheek- and he wasn’t sure if it was his over-reacting or some strange side effect of the serum, but he had literally just… seen stars?

 

No.

 

It was just a camera flash.

 

Steve blinked rapidly, glancing to their side at a single media man who just lowered his camera, scampering away before Steve could even breathe out.

 

Well.

 

Media men worked fast. Unfortunately, nothing he could do about that; he wasn’t going to make an even bigger scene by chasing a photographer down the street.

 

“…Sorry, I didn’t know that he-” The woman mumbled, covering the lower half of her face with the signed pamphlet.

 

Steve put up a hand in gentle dismissal.

 

“It’s not your fault. I’m sure it’ll blow over within the week, even if it ends up in the newspaper anyway,” He mustered a chuckle.

 

“It’s not like I have anyone out there that’d be _jealous_ , ma’am.”

 

…

…

…

 

Needless to say, following his internal turmoil, Tony had stopped his adventures with Armie Hawkins. It hadn't been difficult, breaking things off so suddenly, since Hawkin's wife decided to come down for a surprise visit the week after their "affairs" occurred. Armie had come to Tony to ask for a rain check. Tony agreed to that rain check. Indefinitely.

 

The wife being there only added another reason for them not to meet again _intimately_ , though they had to continue to meet professionally in the work place.

 

Tony had resolutely come to the decision that the incident – which had all occurred purely in his mind- was not at all a “big deal.”

 

It wasn’t as though the term “Baby Blues” was coined to referring to Steve Rogers; if anything, “Baby Blues” was as unoriginal of a nickname as he could have given! He’d have to rethink himself… and after all, Steve was Captain America— running around the country in red, white, and blue tights—there were endless new names he could call him now.

 

And on the topic of the situation Tony had been in _when_ he his mind had wandered— well, that was a bit touchy.

 

But he’d reasoned through that too, since, now that he was thrust back into the real world, he was thinking very clearly.

 

In his reasoning, he ultimately had to admit to himself that, yes, he knew Baby Blu— shit— that Stevie was attractive. Even before the serum he had this boyish cuteness about him, he was little but his face had a charm about it. And after the serum he only became more - athletic, per say - and maybe Tony had stared at his bare torso a little too long but that was just his body responding to what was in front of it.

 

Steve’s new body was surely a “specimen” of the level of perfection a male body could reach… tall, muscular, good posture, a pretty face. So who could blame his, naturally, hormonal and testosterone-filled body for thinking, maybe, for a fleeting second, about that “specimen” while engaging in sexual intercourse?

 

Not to mention his mind was already foggy from sensations, and hell, he was human; only a 23-year-old human at that.

 

It's not like he asked to be attracted to men.

 

But either way, whether he had or had NOT thought about Steve at the time or had just been thinking about how blue Armie's eyes were and momentarily thought of the unoriginal nickname; it was something that wasn't going to happen again and was best to be forgotten all together.

 

Tony wished they were advanced enough with technology to actually wipe memories like that completely.

 

"You should take a look at the paper today, Tony." Howard suddenly said groggily, having just woken up to grab the article, though he looked worried over something. He came around, dropping it on the small table, which his brother sat staring out the window of their shared motel (the Colonel had recommended they choose a more incognito residence for their time in London).

 

Luckily enough they still had access to the American paper where they were staying in the UK; people here liked to know about their allies, even if it wasn't always something exciting.

 

In this case, the front page was eye-catching, to say the least. Tony slid on his glasses.

 

**[CAPTAIN AMERICA: Finding Recruits and Finding Love?]**

 

The headline was one thing, using the word “love” so freely, but the images beneath it were another.

 

The first image was simply the super soldier shaking hands with Senator Brandt, but the other was... the blond male and a woman with her lips pressed against his cheek.

 

Honestly, the picture was rather awkward - Steve's eyes were slightly widened and it looked as though he wasn't expecting the gesture - but Tony's eyes stuck to the light haired woman who seemed very sure of what she was doing. The image was black and white, of course, but one could almost see the woman glowing with contentedness at puckering up with America's newest hero.

 

She _probably_ knew the camera was there, too, Tony thought.

 

Just wanted her time in the paper since she likely lived as unremarkable of a life as a young woman could be living...

 

"You're making a face."

 

Tony raised his brows and lowered the paper from his view, glancing over top of it at Howard, whom was leaning against the kitchen counter top.

 

"What face?"

 

"The one you make when you're going on a mental tangent, and not a positive one, based on how your eyebrows are knotting together." Howard mused, scratching his mustache.

 

The younger gave a tight-lipped smirk before breaking into a sarcastically large, white-toothed grin.

 

"I wasn't going on a mental tangent. I was just focusing. Why did I need to see the paper, anyway?"

 

"I was more talking about the second page, but you can go ahead and stare at your blond buddy as long as you like."

 

Tony went back to the paper, flipping to next section with a flick.

 

"...If you wanted me to see the second page then don't you think you should've handed it to me that way?" Tony murmured, a tad sourly.

 

Howard made a small noise of acknowledgement, but saved a response for after Tony skimmed over what he had been referring to.

 

 

**[HOMOSEXUALITY: A New Outbreak in America]**

**Men have been arrested for engaging in sexual or "romantic" actions with other men. Unbelievable as it may be to imagine, do not fear! Doctors have already began working on treatments for the unfortunately fallen individuals, and given the dire time of war America is facing, any ill-men suffering from this astounding mental disorder will not be permitted to join the war effort...]**

 

 

The article continued in a similar tone, briefly mentioning the hope that the "disease" of homosexuality could soon be cured before it reached women.

 

It had already "reached" women, Tony was quite certain, but it wasn't like he was going to run his mouth about it.

 

"And why did I need to see this..?" Tony asked, slowly, looking again at his company.

 

Howard shrugged, easing himself into a chair across from him.

 

"I'm not saying I agree with anything they're saying. But I just wanted you... to be careful, because clearly the masses aren't being very accepting of -"

 

"I'm not a homosexual, and I don't need to be babied, Howard. I like women, too, so does this even apply to me? Nobody would suspect me, anyway, after how many women I've been with."

 

Howard sighed, rubbing his eyes with his forefinger and thumb.

 

"I'm not saying that you need to be watched, I'm just trying to say that while, yes, everybody knows and sees how you womanize... _I_ know that you don't only entertain women, Tony. And if anyone else found out… or anybody that knows about it said something I'm just worried—"

 

"What? I'll be 'investigated'? Sent to a hospital like the men in the paper? It's not as though we're not in a position to pay off anybody who would try to speak against me. And as for the lucky fellas I've already 'entertained', they'd only jeopardize themselves if they said anything. I'm fine. And it's not like I have a significant other - male or female - so I could care less if having sex with other men is dangerous now. I'll stop, if it'll make you feel more secure about yourself." Tony rolled his eyes, folding the paper again and taking off his glasses. His tone was bland, and his words were clipped.

 

Before now the question of if the sex of a person mattered wasn't one anybody had to ask, because nobody had ever thought of the possibility of men loving men, or women with women; it was like some unwritten code of ethics, since only a man and woman could reproduce. But it had happened- men being with other men - and nobody cared or knew, so Tony had always assumed it was fine, just never spoken of.

 

Apparently... it just had to be brought to light before it became just another unacceptable 'crime.'

 

Unconsciously clenching his fingers on the thin paper in his hand, Tony continued in the same harsh voice.

 

"...I have plenty of willing ladies that'll keep me far from any men." He reiterated, eyes burning into the side of Howard's head.

 

"Just... be careful, that's all I ask." And Howard leaves the room, going to grab his coat so that he can leave for the laboratory, sooner rather than later.

 

He neither confirms or denies whether he wants Tony to stop seeing men, but Tony comes to his own conclusion that, yes, it was probably for the best that he did.

 

At the time, he didn't think it'd be a problem, either.

 

Never before had he ever felt a deep connection with a person he'd laid with— man or woman, it was always just empty lust, a willing body that was equally as needing for a night away from the world or a body that simply wanted him for what he was: a rich man.

 

So what was he losing, now that the public eye now openly shunned same-sex endeavors?

 

_Nothing._

 

Glancing back down at the front page of the newspaper, Tony's eyes grazed back over the woman whom had kissed the Captain.

 

She probably lived more a remarkable life than he had after all, for she could have whatever man she wanted without any fear or contemplation of right or wrong.

 

His eyes looked back at Stevie on the page... perhaps they lingered for a moment longer than they needed to, but he wouldn't have admitted that to himself.

 

Yes.

 

He _definitely_ had not been thinking about Steve when he was with Armie, he concluded, after running the fact that the country was against that sort of relationship between two men through his head again and again.

 

Now, even if he did care for any other man, it didn't matter much, did it?

 

_[It would never work.](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/d6/25/06/d625065118b659b5f8dcdb5aa1ee8bb0.jpg)  
_

 

 

 

 

Tony pushed the newspaper into the garbage can, rubbing his eyes and ignoring the slight feeling of moisture against the back of his hand.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Having to address the topic of homosexuality so negatively made me a bit sad as an ally of the LGBT+ community, but it had to be done, especially given the time period. I do not, however, claim to be an expert on how it was treated or exactly how it was worded (since I only had very brief research to get the vibe of how the general public reacted) when it came to light in the late 40's, but since this fic takes place in the early 40's I had to kind of make it my own, and I prefer to hold any creative liberties for this particular AU.


End file.
